High School Romance
by Luv-X-Juliet
Summary: Thirteen years ago he hurt her. She loved him and he broke her. So she left, alone and devastated. But now she's back. And she's on a mission.
1. Welcome home

Before we begin reading the story, can you please disregard the actual locations of the places I have mentioned in the story. These places are only names and if their actual locations do not match, it's because I don't really know where they are.

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I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

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**Chapter One**

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Rain sheeted over the windshield, so thick it could have been honey. Oblivious to its intensity, Serena Tsukino opened her car door and was immediately met with a deluge that turned her platinum blonde locks three shades darker. Her bangs fell in her face, streaming it with more tears of the sky.

Blinking rapidly, Serena jumped onto the rain-pounded street, one foot sinking into a low spot in the asphalt, instantly soaking her to the ankle.

"Welcome home," she muttered, shielding her eyes against the downpour.

Straight ahead the street sign for Crescent Bay's First City Bank glowed like a white rectangular eye. To her right, a pink neon crab and scripted letters that cried Crawfish Delish! Beckoned to a café's warm interior. Serena debated. She was starving! The long car trip hadn't been enjoyable and the café looked so warm and enticing… but no. She had a lot to do. Lots of decisions to make. Lots of people to see.

Screwing up her courage, she marched across the street to another sign and another eating establishment, this one a tad less sharp and new but still appealing, more like a beloved but scuffed shoe. Crown Fruit Parlour. And of course the Crown Game Centre Below. The hangout of her youth.

She'd sworn she would never return. Sworn she would never set foot in this dreaded place again as long as she lived. Crescent Bay, California. Population: 3,001. If there was a more hellish place on earth, Serena couldn't think of it. This was where she's suffered through an adolescence that had cut her so deeply that even now, years–eons–later, she still couldn't hear the town's name with feeling a burning pain that brought a stabbing sensation in her chest.

The Crown's sign grew clearer as she drew near––a wash of red and white against a sky so dark and close it felt like the approach of a deadly meteor. Drawing a breath, she reminded herself that this was just her hometown, a coastal tourist trap filled with colourful locals, a few mean spirited people whom she had less than pleasant thoughts.

She slopped through puddles of rain. Red beams of lights flashed onto the pavement––a scarlet blur that warned in intermittent blinks that the swinging traffic lights overhead were on the fritz. Not that anyone cared. She could have been on the moon, for all the signs of humanity moving about tonight.

Her fingers closed around the metal bar on Crown's glass doors. Ghostly fingers walked up her spine. _Déjà vu_.

She shivered.

Inside, the warmth hit her like a hammer. The jukebox played at a decibel level she could no longer handle without pain. Serena glanced around furtively, half expecting some old nemesis to leap up, point at her and scream out her transgressions.

Serena Tsukino. Serena, Serena. Cry-baby, loser, slut.

"Serena?"

She gasped, one hand to her throat, too stunned to do more than stare at the frozen man who'd spoken from behind the counter.

"Is it you?" he asked in amazement, a smile hovering at the corners of his mouth.

Brushing back a strand of saturated hair, Serena gazed at his face, waiting for her heart rate to return to normal. Her first impression was how different he looked; her second––and this came with a jolt––was that he was one of her classmates from Crescent High.

"Andrew?" she asked tentatively.

"It _is_ you! God Almighty!" Flipping up a section of the counter, he came toward her, arms outstretched. His apron covered stains of sauce and milkshakes. He stopped short, right in front of her, apparently recalling, as she did, that everything had changed.

But his openness worked like a cure. Serena stepped into his arms and hugged him hard. Her throat tightened. Andrew Hansford, Fred's oldest son had been one of the few people who's stuck up for her when everyone else at Crescent High had welcomed her demise.

"I'm covered with sauce and soda." He hugged her back, just as warmly.

"I'm dripping with rain." She gently disengaged herself and glanced ruefully at the tiny puddles germinating around her feet.

"Wow. I can't get over it! How long has it been?"

"A few years."

An understatement if there ever was one. It had been over thirteen years since graduation and even then, Serena hadn't been around for the ceremonies. She'd already left.

"Well, sit down, sit down." He gestured to one of the cushioned booths.

"Let me get out of my coat. It's hot enough in here to take a steam bath." Shrugging out of her overcoat, Serena inhaled deeply, her pulse beating light and fast. She'd worked at Crown's Parlour that memorable, disastrous year when she'd fallen in love with Darien Shields, captain of the football team, top of the class, the most popular guy in school, all around Mr. Wonderful.

_Bastard._

"So, what are you doing here? I heard you'd moved to New York. Heading for stardom."

"The rumour mill really did work overtime," Serena murmured, surprised even thought she shouldn't be. The collective minds of Crescent High, Class of '93, weren't exactly on the brilliant end of the scale. "I went to Atlanta."

"No kidding? All this time? What've you been doing there?"

"Working." Andrew waited expectantly and Serena added, "I'm half owner of Lita's Thunder and Lightning Restaurant."

"Wow."

"It's not all that glamorous. It's really just a job."

As soon as the words were out she regretted them. She'd spent so much of her time belittling herself, it had never occurred to her that in some people's eyes her ownership might seem the pinnacle of success.

"Sounds pretty great to me," Andrew declared without an ounce of envy. "I'm still stuck here at the fruit parlour, making a nuisance of myself."

"How's your dad?"

"Oh, Fred's the same. Just a little greyer, y'know?" Andrew grinned and Serena saw the boy she'd gone to school with. "He still asks about you. 'That Tsukino girl. She sure was a looker.' You'll have to stop in and say hello before you leave." He paused. "How long ya here for?"

"Just passing through." Serena swallowed and smiled, certain that if she showed any other emotion, she would break down and make a fool of herself. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Wouldn't it be great to see some of the old gang again? I mean, jeez, it's been so long!"

"Yeah, _great_."

Andrew was oblivious to her sarcasm. And why not? He'd always been jovial and extroverted and completely innocent. He'd been incensed by the cruel things they'd said about her, a champion to the end, even when she'd wanted him to just shut up and let the whole thing die.

But she'd appreciated his championing nonetheless.

Well, that was what she was here for now, right? To put all this nonsense to bed. To face and forget about the mistakes she's made, and then to try to forgive the people who'd hurt her when she'd been a miserable, mixed-up kid.

"So, are ya married?" Andrew asked, glancing down at her hands.

"Not at the moment." _Not ever_.

"Well, you remember Rita Blake? I made her my lovely bride right after graduation."

"I remember Rita."

A smart girl. Little on the tall side with chocolate coloured hair. One of the nice girls who attended Crescent High. Definitely worthy of Andrew.

"We got two kids. Andrew, Jr.'s six and Kathy's five."

"Congratulations."

"Ya want something to eat? A drink? Food?"

He bustled behind the counter where a girl was fumbling with the cash register. She stared at Serena through liquid, dark brown eyes with that incredibly dull, suspicious stare that lived in the gaze of too many American teens.

"It's a bit cold, so I'll get you some coffee and perhaps a slice of strawberry cheesecake."

"That'd be great." A little cake wouldn't hurt. _I'll need strength for what I'm going to do later_.

Serena laid her coat over the back of a chair and perched at a nearby table, watching as Andrew and the girl prepared her order. The phone wasn't ringing; no one wanted to go out in the rain. Little wonder. Water still beaded and ran off her coat onto the floor.

"It's a monsoon out there," she said loudly.

"Huh?" Andrew glanced toward the now-steamy glass front doors. A gust of wind half blew them inward. "Oh yeah! What a disaster. You sure picked a good time to come."

"My timing was never great"

"Huh?" He cocked an ear her way.

"Never mind."

Serena settle back and sighed, ruefully aware that her heart still beat light and fast. Why did it matter so much? Why?

She knew why. That was the trouble. She'd known why fourteen years ago when she'd decided to keep her pregnancy a secret.

A group of kids ran into the Crown Parlour, screaming with laughter and shaking water from their hair. The girls hung on the boys and the boys pushed each other around, teasing and testing and generally showing off. It could have been Serena's senior year. It could have been her and Mina and Raye and Andrew and Matt and Darien.

Andrew brought her coffee and cake. Serena chewed several bites and gave him the thumbs-up. He grinned, delighted. Although she'd tasted the cake and its sweetness, her memories had taken away her appetite and its allure.

She stayed as long as she could before her consciousness got the better of her. Finally, she paid and thanked Andrew, then waded through the rain-shrouded street back to her car. The white compact car started without a cough and Serena eased towards the North Beach Road––where the rich people lived.

The Shields owned the house at the end of the lane, a Victorian seaside home with a wrought-iron-railed widow's walk and elaborate gingerbread surrounding every pillar and window. As a child, Serena had dreamed of living in a house just like theirs. It was beautiful. A fairytale. So perfect, it belonged in Candyland or a Disney movie.

The Shields kids had wanted for nothing. Serena could remember sticking her face between the wrought-iron spikes of the surrounding fence, peeking at their wonderland, wishing with all her might that she'd been "to the manor born" instead of the skinny-legged daughter of one of Crescent Bay's poorest and most pathetically dysfunctional families.

Her father, Ken, wasn't a stable man, often moving from job to job, he'd drown his sorrows in drink. Not often, and only rarely, but nevertheless he drank. During these times, with the aid of liquid strength, he'd beat Serena and her mother. His horrified remorse afterward only made the whole thing a hundred times worse. It made her believe there would be an end. It made her believe that he would finally pull his life together and they could live as a whole, happy family. But it didn't change the fact that he'd become an alcoholic. A disease. An incurable plague. One that ultimately prevented any thoughts of a happy life on Serena's behalf.

By the time Serena understood that nothing would change, Serena's mother had died. Not physically. She was still there, sitting in the living room or moving with the beaten weariness of the hopeless through the kitchen, where every moment was an eternity, every movement an expenditure of energy she couldn't afford, every teardrop an evaporation of her soul until there were no more teardrops left.

Serena was virtually on her own at fourteen. No one regulated her. No one could afford the emotional commitment.

So…she searched for love elsewhere.

Her friends were her lifeline – at least, until she turned seventeen and her skinny legs lengthened and curved while her breasts developed and her cute, round face smoothed out and changed. Suddenly her eyes were as blue and clear as the sky, her face regal and shaped, her lips full and smiling with promise.

So long, friends. Hello, boyfriends.

The shame of it was that Serena had welcomed the changed. Revelled in it! Who wanted to be the plain girl? Not Serena Tsukino. No way! She wanted to be the princess, the girl everyone wanted to be, the most popular girl in school.

And she was bound and determined to win that trophy, no matter what it cost.

What a vain, silly, self-destructive goal. But for the girl who had nothing, it was a chance to have almost everything.

And everything included Darien Shields.

Serena pulled into the Shields drive and up to the gates. Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, headlights feebly arrowing through the pounding rain. The windshield fogged, and she switched on the defrost, glad that the rush of air covered the heavy pounding in her ears.

She had to climb out to push the button of the intercom. Cold raindrops trickled down the back of her neck. Her shoes were soaked, ruined, and she stared down at them dismally, wishing she didn't have to go through with this.

But she did.

Punching the black button, she called, "Hello?" into the speaker. Background fuzz. No answer.

She waited, then called again.

"Who's there?" a female voice demanded, so sharp and clear that Serena gasped in shocked recognition.

His mother's voice. The Evil Witch. As cold as ocean waves and just a treacherous.

Serena had run afoul of her without even trying.

Swallowing, she announced, "Hello, Mrs. Shields. It's Serena Tsukino."

She'd said it and her voice sounded strong and clear. _Thank you, God_.

"Who?"

Evil Witch knew damn well who it was. For the first time since she'd decided to make this pilgrimage, Serena smiled. Nervous as she was, she was no longer the frightened little girl Beryl Shields had scorned with such fury. "Serena Tsukino," she said distinctly.

There was no answer.

"I'd like to talk to Darien. I need to get his address or phone number."

"Darien's not here."

_Did I say he was?_ Serena controlled her temper with an effort. But it was good to be mad. Great, in fact. She'd cowered as a teenager but she was a teenager no longer. She was a woman who, for better or worse, had made some tough choices over the years and had lived with them. They hadn't all been the best choices. Many times they'd been the only choices. But she'd made them all on her own.

"Would you be kind enough to give me his address? I'd really appreciate it."

"Excuse me."

Serena waited and as the time spun out, she realised she'd been cut off for good. Cut off as permanently as she had been nearly thirteen years ago.

Pressing the button, she said distinctly, "I won't go away. I'm staying in Crescent Bay until I finish what I came for. I'm going to come every day and press this button until you either help me, or give me a good reason why you won't/ You can call the police. In fact, I'm sure you will. But it will only hurt you in the end because you know Darien's going to want to hear what I have to say."  
Back in the car, Serena inhaled several angry breaths before she started the engine. In a spurt of indignation she backed out of the driveway, spraying wet-black gravel in all directions. Her right rear tire slipped off the road into a muddy bog. Yanking the wheel, Serena punched the accelerator but the car only succeeded in spinning in a circle until she was sideways in the road.

"Damn…"

Serena tried to baby the bar forward but the right rear tire spun deeper into the mud.

"Wouldn't you know," she muttered, sure this was some kind of punishment for arguing with the ruler of the Shields Manor.

Suddenly headlight flickered eerily. A car was coming––and coming fast! Panicked, Serena tried to twist the steering wheel. If this car didn't slow down, it would plough right into her driver's side as soon as it made the last turn! Stomping on her accelerator again, Serena prayed for help. Her back tires whined and spun.

"Oh, God!"

The approaching vehicle whipped around the corner. Its headlights bore down on her like huge, glaring eyes. Serena jerked back in the seat, as if that would save her from the impact. A black Jeep. Racing toward her. Huge tires spewing water. Crying out, Serena covered her face with her arms.

The driver slammed on the brakes. The jeep shimmied and slid sideways, hydroplaning toward her car in a slow-motion nightmare. Serena braced herself. Inches from her car, the Jeep suddenly shuddered to a stop, as if the driver had suddenly found a magic brake.

Serena let out her breath. She fumbled for the door handle. Hallelujah! No impact. No injuries. But her pulse was galloping at breakneck speed again.

The driver leaped out of his Jeep at the same moment she scrambled out of her compact. "You okay?" she asked.

He strode toward her, hard, fast, his shoulders thrust forward.

"Oh, God." She would know that walk anywhere. _Darien!_

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded furiously. "Meditating? You want a view of the beach, go somewhere else. This is private property."

"No kidding."

"I nearly smashed into you! You're damn lucky I've got new tires or we'd both be examining the wreckage!"

He looked the same. Incredibly the same. From the thick black strands of hair that now slapped lank with water against his forehead, to the rock-hard jaw, wide, muscular shoulder, lean hips, and long legs.

Darien Shields. All-around athlete. Her knight––or Prince––in shining armour.

Except he'd used her and thrown her away.

And suddenly Serena couldn't tell him. The words wouldn't even form in her brain, let alone reach her lips. This angry man glaring down at her as if wanted to rip her limb from limb, much the way he'd glare at her years before, didn't deserve the truth.

"I'm sorry," Serena murmured, turning away. "I made a mistake."

That threw him. He was ready for battle and she'd capitulated without an angry words. Running a hand through his hair, he only succeeded in pushing the rain-slicked locks away for a second before they flopped forward once more. He peered at her through narrowed eyes, his mouth tight with fury.

"Wait," he muttered as Serena climbed into her car and slammed her door closed.

Rain blurred the windshield. Serena trembled again. A shadow loomed outside and suddenly Darien was right beside her, peering in the window. Panic overtook her. She fought it; she had no reason to fear him now. But she couldn't help herself.

The beams of his headlights were aimed through her windshield, glancing off her eyes, blinding her. She shaded her face, happy to hide from Darien's probing gaze.

"Hey." He rapped on her window.

She toyed with the idea of simply tearing away, spinning through the mud and hopefully avoiding both him and his Jeep in her bid for escape. But running hadn't been the answer in the past; it certainly wasn't the answer now.

Cracking the window a sliver, she kept her face averted. Courage apparently wasn't her strong suit, she thought ruefully, avoiding looking at him straight on.

"Are you lost? There isn't anything else down this road except this property." He gestured toward the house.

"The Shields."

"You know the family?" he asked, surprised. Now he was really staring at her.

"I've heard of them." Serena twisted the ignition but one of his hands, wet and strong, clamped over her window.

"Wait a minute."

"I'm in a hurry," she retorted, pressing her toe to the accelerator.

His breath swept in, almost in a gasp. "My God," he whispered in amazement. "Serena!"

She cringed. "Hard to believe, isn't it" she muttered. Thankfully the compact crept forward, the tires gripping easily now that she wasn't stomping on the gas. Still, she had to work to avoid his bumper. But Darien hung right on, walking alongside, gazing at her until, unable to stop herself, Serena stared at him full-face.

His eyes were a dark midnight blue, dark as the deepest trenches of the ocean, and full of undisguised shock. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Haunting the neighbourhood."

It just slipped out. After years of habit. Sarcasm, her favourite protective device.

And it was as if she'd suddenly awakened him from a hypnotic trance, for his face changed as he, too, remembered their last, less-than-pleasant parting.

"You came to see me." His voice was hard. "Why?"

"I came to see a lot of people. Don't let it go to your head."

"You haven't changed."

"Fortunately, that's not true. Let go of the window, Dare."

"No one's called me Dare since high school."

"Really? What do they call you? Or should I even ask?"

He didn't miss the jab, and she remembered with a tiny dart of pain, that he'd always been quick – one of the few intelligent jocks Crescent Bay every turned out. His mouth quirked, almost with amusement, and she suddenly remember the taste of his lips and the whiteness of his teeth.

Her heart jolted painfully. Why? Why did she remember these things?

"Darien," he said quietly.

"Well, Darien, I gotta go. It's been…interesting."

"How long are you going to be in town?"

"As short a time as possible."

He stared at her, long and hard. Serena's breath caught. She was mesmerised. As mesmerised as she'd been that first time he'd singled her out from the rest of the giddy sophomore girls.

"Maybe that's a good thing," he told her in a tight voice.

And then he slipped away from the window and strode through the rain to his waiting Jeep.

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I would greatly appreciate it if you would be able to review my chapters. I love to know what people think of my story and efforts so far. Anonymous or signed, comments would be great.

Also, just so you people know, I am trying to update each chapter when I can and when I receive enough reviews. If not, maybe up to a week or 2. ;) However, this will only be until I start school next year, by then I will try to update every 2 or 3 weeks. Although this may depend on how busy I am or how tired I am. I am trying to concentrate on my studies and be prepared, so until the next school year, you can expect regular updates.

Until next time, bye.


	2. Growing up

Thank you for your reviews, I would now like to present Chapter 2. And hope that you find this as interesting as you found the first. =)

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I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

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**Chapter Two**

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The motel room was drab and smelled of mildew, but it was relatively clean, possessed an ocean view, and several of the units looked to be under renovation. Serena flung her rain-drenched coat over the back of a desk chair, ran her fingers through her damp mane, then flipped out the lights and stood in front of the sliding glass door, staring at the dark moving waves as they spread across the shore. There was a beach of sorts below the cliff, tucked tightly between angry bluffs of black rocks.

A rickety wooden staircase hugged the headland for anyone who dared to climb down to that spit of wet sand. On a night like tonight it would be tantamount to suicide. Serena stood where she was and longed for a glass of chocolate milkshake and bottle of vodka. The tasty and intoxicatingly sweet concoction would compensate for the burn of the vodka.

And be successful in getting Serena completely and irrevocably drunk.

Darien Shields. Her inner eye remembered his glistening, wet hair, tense jaw line, broad shoulders and jeans-wrapped hips. She shook her head in was she so focused on his body parts? Why? _After all this time!_

Maybe she did need that vodka. Milkshake or not.

Groaning, she exhaled heavily, an ironic smile playing on her lips. She hadn't even noticed his physical attributes that much in high school. Even when they'd been stripped naked and making love in the Shield tree house, Serena couldn't remember thinking of him as so incredibly male. She'd been in love, and as such, she'd wanted to make love. A part of her had even done it for him, because she had wanted to please him and love-making had seemed such as natural end to her feeling of adoration, need and happiness.

Lust? No, she hadn't felt it then. She hadn't known what it was. Still didn't, actually, although her mind seemed stuck in a pretty carnal track right now!

How could it be that after all this time what struck her the hardest were all those male parts working seductively together?

Darien Shields. She'd had her chance to tell him tonight. Her shining moment. But in the heat of emotion she'd simply run. Run away. Just like she did before.

What had he said? _You haven't changed_. Well, that was a big lie. She'd changed mightily, and for the better. Gone was the Serena of yester-year. Gone was the painful yearning for things out of her reach, the anxious dwelling of waiting – waiting for that special something to happen to her.

Closing her eyes, Serena tipped her head to one side and remembered…

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Sophomore year. The lunchroom was a shrieking, humming machine of humanity where shouting was the only form of communication.

Serena sat on a plastic chair, munching an apple, wishing her breasts would grow. Sixteen and still gawky, she eyes her friends with faintly veiled envy, noticing their rounded curves and coquettish giggles, and wanting for all the world to be one of the popular, cute girls instead of a slightly serious, boyishly-slim wannabe whom no one looked at or cared about.

Popularity was everything. With it, you were _somebody_. Without it, you were less than nothing. A negative number. Below zero.

With a swift sigh, she eyed her friends across the lunch table. Molly Baker had breasts, so some of the guys checked her out and said hello. Unfortunately she was too shy about it to do anything. Her eyes would bug out and she would stammer and generally make herself look like an idiot. That and her Brooklyn accent made it difficult for some to understand her, especially when she stammered.

Amy Mizuno, shy reclusive girl had similar attributes as Molly. But her intelligence and insecure persona left her generally alone and with Serena and Molly. But aside from this she was sweet and loyal.

Too bad Serena cared about popularity more.

Molly and Amy had been her friends for years, all through elementary school and junior high. Good friends, Friends you could count on.

Serena bit fiercely into her apple. The trouble was _she_ wasn't so good a friend. All she wanted was to be part of the cool crowd. Molly and Amy's conversation ebbed and rose like a tide, the subjects inconsequential. None of it interested Serena anymore. Now that she was a sophomore their chatter seemed inane and boring. She wanted something more! Something _better!_

As soon as the thought crossed her mind Serena squelched it, hating herself a little. What was wrong with her? Why was she so mean?

"Hurry up," Molly mumbled around the last bites of a maple bar. "I've got to get to my locker before _he _shows up."

Serena groaned inwardly. "He" was Darien Shields, the cutest––and richest––guy in the sophomore class. And he knew it. Boy, did he know it. Serena had seen the way he strutted down the hall, girls trailing after him like a bride's train.

It was enough to make an intelligent female puke.

To that end, she made retching noises. Molly's eyes narrowed. She knew Serena's feelings about Darien and did not approve.

But why shouldn't Serena feel this way? From the first day of kindergarten, Darien Shields had been Mr. Perfect, too cool to notice the shy girl in the third row who hid the bruises on her arm from the teacher by wearing long sleeves, even on hot days. Day after day, from the classroom window, Serena watched Darien's perfect mother pick him up from school and drive away in the Shield's sleek black BMW toward that house on the hill that everybody else talked about; that beautiful, fairy tale house above the cove.

She knew the house; knew exactly which one it was because it was her dream house. She could imagine the parties and tea cakes and velvet that waited within those magic walls.

But shy Serena Tsukino, whose clothes were a size too small and frayed along the cuffs and hems, wasn't one of the chosen twenty-seven asked to Darien's kindergarten party. Only the best and brightest had received the gilt-edged invitations.

Snotty Caroline Newsmith brought hers to school and flipped it in front of Serena's nose.

"You aren't going, are you?" Caroline had taunted.

Five years old and already well versed in the art of snobbery, Caroline was a have while Serena was clearly, a have-not.

Serena hadn't answered. She's just looked down at her coloured drawing of a sunny beach with a blue sky.

"He's got his own beach, Darien does. They've got a boat, too." Caroline had leaned over Serena's shoulder staring wide-eyed at the picture. "And a tree house. Our parents are friends. I'm going to marry him someday."

Serena's continued silence had caused Caroline to lose interest and she moved on to another loser who hadn't made the Darien Shields friends-of-choice club.

Surreptitiously, Serena crumpled her drawing in one fist and shoved it into the pocket of her sweater.

From the window she had watched the Shields' BMW arrive to pick up Darien that day, only this time, nearly the entire class had tripped gaily toward the car, swarming it. Darien's mother stepped out and arranged the kids in rows on the sidewalk. Other mothers––The chosen drivers––came in their own cars, and after the kids piled inside, the vehicles serpentine away from the school, following the gleaming black leader, all on their way to paradise.

Serena had gone home on the bus, only to walk in on her father swaying drunkenly in the living room, and her mother, half cowering, her cheek covered protectively with one palm.

There had been other Shields parties over the years. Serena Tsukino was never invited. Neither was Molly and Amy, social nobodies as unimportant as she was. The three friends found each other and bonded – a case of need and desperation none ever openly admitted to, but all felt.

And now, it was such as visceral betrayal that Molly had a crush on Darien Shields!

"How do you know he's going to show up?" Amy demanded.

Molly lifted a dismissive shoulder. "He walks by my locker on his way to biology every day."  
Amy snorted derisively. "Like he'd even notice you."

"He says hi to me!" Molly stuck out her chin and her breasts lifted to attention, too. Serena suddenly wondered if she stuffed her bra.

"Down, girl," Serena muttered. Amy stifled a giggle and Molly glared at her, wounded to the core.

"What's the matter with you?" Molly looked about to cry. "You always say something mean about Darien."

"So, what should I say that's good?" Serena demanded.

"He's a great athlete," Molly retorted. "He's on the varsity football team."

"Big yawn…" Serena patted her hand over her mouth in boredom.

"He's really cute." Molly was undeterred. In fact, she was on a roll. "He's got these thick eyelashes and, like, almost a dimple in his cheek. You can see it sometimes when he smiles."

"He hardly every smiles," Serena countered.

This appeared to be another plus. "He's serious. If he doesn't get a football scholarship, he'll get an academic one. He's really smart."

"And he's got the coolest muscles," Amy chimed in; caught up in the moment.

Serena narrowed her eyes at her. The traitor. She was supposed to agree with _her_.

"Darien Shields's a stuck up jerk." Serena declared.

"He's nice to me," Molly answered defensively.

"Fine. He's nice to you." Serena scooped up her book bag and headed for the alls. She had to get away from them. From their silly desires and stupid fantasies.

"I can't wait to get out of Crescent Bay," she murmured aloud, a proclamation she recited at least twice a day.

Twisting the combination on her locker, Serena glanced over her shoulder and groaned. Darien Shields, the object of her wrath himself, was heading her way. He wore a blue-and-gold letterman's jacket––varsity football his freshman and sophomore year––and was surrounded by adoring girls from all grades.

"Hey, Dare," one of them suddenly sang out. "What are you doing after the game tonight?"

"Sleeping," he answered in that studied voice Serena found particularly annoying. Didn't the guy possess one once of spontaneity? Everything was so careful, so orchestrated.

"With anyone I know?" the girl responded on a laugh. "Or is there a vacancy I can fill?"

Wild braying laughter accompanied this come-on. The whole entourage whooped and snickered like a pack of witless hyenas.

"Brother," Serena muttered under her breath.

Darien and friends stopped directly opposite her, as if she were their one-and-only audience member and the show was meant for her alone.

"I feel like I could sleep for a year," he answered. Ignoring the girls' sexual banter. "Me and my dad are going to Pullman tomorrow to see a Cougars game."

"My dad and I," Serena corrected softly.

Her voice seemed to suddenly clang like chiming bells. Either that, or it was a trick of fate, but whatever the cause, her words fell into an unexpected lull and hung there, a red flag of challenge to Crescent Bay's favourite son.

"What's _your_ problem?" one of the groupies demanded.

"The brainiac speaks," another sniffed.

"What a bitch," still another said on a half laugh of derision.

A pair of blue jeans over slim thighs topped by a tan-leather and blue-and-gold jacket moved into her line of vision. Darien Shields, his jacket unzipped to reveal a black shirt, stood directly in front of her. His chest rose and fell several times, ten inches from her nose.

_God_. Her heart somersaulted painfully.

"My dad and I are going to Pullman tomorrow to the Cougars game," he corrected himself. His low-timbered voice raised a rash of goose bumps along her arms.

Serena found she couldn't look up and meet his eyes. Her pulse raced along, light and fast, a traitor, too. Ignoring him, she pulled several unneeded books from her locker. But he just stood there, eyed her hard, his breath deep and even, a faint scent of rose and musk reaching her nostrils.

Serena's nerves screamed for release. Glancing up, she saw those dark cobalt eyes she hadn't forgotten since her terrible elementary-school days, although she hadn't looked at him this closely in years.

"Why do you try so hard to put me down?" he asked.

"What?" Serena stared.

"It's always that way with you. A sneak attack, something slipped in sideways."

She was stunned. "Me?"

"I can't walk by you without a remark."

She was incensed. OF course it wasn't true! Darien Shields didn't even know she existed!

"I don't know what you're talking about," she sputtered, slamming her locker. The entourage had moved back, waiting for him, the girls regarding her smugly as if they knew she was about to get slam-dunked by their hero.

"You're just mad at me all the time. Like I've done something to you. Did I? Something I don't remember?"

"I don't care what you do!" Panicked, Serena fumbled with her book bag. The stitching on one handle was dangerously close to ripping out altogether. She plucked at the thread, intending to tighten it, but it came undone as if by unseen hands, and the bag fell to the floor.

Darien automatically reached forward to help, bending down at the same moment as she did, his arm brushing hers. At the contact, Serena jerked compulsively, nearly overbalancing, and just as automatically his hand grabbed for her arm, holding her steady.

The heat of his fingers nearly overpowered Serena. That and the recognition of his innate strength. Frozen, she could do nothing but balance precariously on the balls of her feet. He held her steady, his face registering only normal concern.

"Whoa, there. Sorry I bumped you."

"It's okay."

"Looks like that bag's destroyed." He smiled.

White teeth and sexy lips. The guy didn't smile very often but when he did, it was a stellar show! Serena suddenly snapped back to reality, hating him for being so perfect. "Well, it was only it last legs," she muttered, pulling her arm free and snatching the bag by its other handle. She and Darien rose in unison, each awkwardly trying to figure out how to get out of this strange little moment gracefully.

"I'll try to speak better, okay?" he told her as a goodbye, heading toward his hovering group of admirers without another look back. Serena hugged her lumpy book bag in her arms and turned down the opposite hallway, glad that Molly and Amy hadn't been around to witness her downfall.

Throughout geometry class she revisited their conversation, her spirits sinking lower and lower as she realised how awful she'd been. Not just to him, but socially. Good lord, what an idiot! She'd only succeeded in proving _she_ was the loser, destined for nothingness.

Serena finished sophomore year with a vague feeling of things left undone, and over the summer she distanced herself from Molly and Amy until neither girl called her anymore. By the time school started in the fall she was virtually friendless, but tensions ran so high at home––her parents lived a silent war of wills––that Serena only felt relief.

Junior year, a miracle happened. Almost overnight, she metamorphosed from a skinny, unremarkable ugly duckling to the proverbial beautiful swan.

Her legs lengthened and took on definition, her roundly shaped face obtained shape, her skin growing so sleek and fine it was hard to believe she possessed pores. Her breasts grew to an acceptable size. Not nearly as huge as Molly's but rounded and lush enough to provoke more than a few looks of male admiration. Her lips seemed to thicken into sensual, pink crescents, and her eyes gleamed like amethysts with only the faintest application of makeup. Lastly, her golden hair lightened into an almost silvery quality, shimmering in the light. Waist-length, it swung on pigtails, thick and soft and inviting.

From the Girl Most Easily Forgotten, Serena became Crescent Bay's newest sensation.

There was only one problem. Although she could see the physical changes, and could feel the heightened awareness of her from her classmates––especially the males––within herself, where it mattered most, she was still Serena Tsukino, the girl not good enough to be asked to Darien Shields' birthday parties, the girl whose razor-sharp tongue was her only defence.

Then two things happened within a week of each other. The first was a golden opportunity. Early into her junior year, on the verge of her seventeenth birthday, while she sorted through her uneasy emotions, Andrew Hansford told her his dad was looking for someone to work at Crown Fruit Parlour, the family business.

"My dad wants somebody who'll be there every day," Andrew explained, his gaze serious, although Serena watched it skate quickly over her face, down to her breasts and back again. The old Serena would have been embarrassed, but the new Serena was faintly amused.

"Well I don't have any extracurricular activities," Serena told him. "And I'd really like a job."

"That's what somebody said." Andrew nodded enthusiastically. "Head down to Crown's after school. Tell my dad, Fred, you talked to me. He'll hire you. If it's what you want."

"Thank you," Serena said, meaning it. Fred's place was a cool place to work. Everyone wanted a job there, but Fred only hired a few teenagers each year – select ones who filled his own special requirements of poise, friendliness and efficiency. His system worked, for he invariably hired the best employees and therefore ran a successful establishment.

"No problem." Andrew grinned and the tips of his ears turned red.

Serena smiled back. Andrew Hansford was one of Darien Shield's closest friends and definitely a member of the popular crowd. He didn't live in a house "on the water" like the Shields and Newsmiths, but he was one of those guys everyone liked and so the snobs accepted him.

Andrew hadn't really had a girlfriend yet; he'd palled around mostly with Darien and his other football buddies' leftovers, but no one had reported any major kissing between him and any girls. He seemed to prefer the role of Andrew's sidekick, and he was Darien's greatest promoter and marketing agent.

"Did'ja see that pass? Right into his hands. Into his hands! Shields smokes 'em again!" Andrew had yelled at the last football game. He stood in front of the crowd, arms lifted as if he were about to join the cheerleaders in a "Hail to Darien Shields! Reigning King of Crescent High!" and induced the crowd to scream Darien's name over and over again until they were hoarse.

Serena had felt plain sick.

But that was last week, and now Andrew grinned at her in excitement and Serena wondered what would happened if she made Andrew Hansford her boyfriend…

"Thanks, Andrew," she said, blinding him with her smile.

"You bet." Slightly dazed, he wandered away, glancing back at her once. Serena waved, thrilled with a power she heretofore had not known she possessed.

Andrew's father, Fred Hansford, was a pussycat. He shook her hand, then embraced her as part of the Crown Parlour team, flourishing an apron emblazoned with Crown's in red and green letters before placing it in her hands. His joy and exuberance caught at Serena's heart. This was a father to love. She suddenly envied Andrew so thoroughly she wanted to cry.

"What is it, sweetie?" Fred asked, concern pushing aside his laughter for the moment. "Something wrong?"

"No…" Serena clutched the apron tightly between clenched hands. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

She started work the next afternoon. At first she worked the till, marvelling at Fred's expertise at managing the different orders that came in with the customers. He joked and laughed with her and the other teenager; he was like Santa Claus all year long.

Serena ached to love him as a father should be loved, and their relationship throughout her last two years of high school was as close to that kind of father-daughter feeling as she had ever had.

When she found out she was in trouble she'd thought of going to Fred; he would have helped her. But events took place that superseded her chance for Fred's surrogate-parent support, and she'd walked away from him just as she'd walked away from the rest of her life in Crescent Bay.

The other more important event that took place that fateful week was an encounter with Darien that changed everything between them, even though nearly another year would pass before she actually admitted that she loved him.

She ran into Darien Shields after a football game and saved his life.

She herself had not gone to the game; she hated watching Darien lead his team to victory and then embrace the cheers and adoration from his band of groupies. She'd stayed home, listened to music, half-written a paper on teen nutrition and then, because she'd heard her father stumble in drunk, had sneaked out the back door and taken a long walk toward the beach.

Mariner Lane was a small street at the edge of town that ran perpendicular to the beach and was flanked on each side by summertime businesses like bike-rental places, kite ships, and ice-cream huts, and ended in a wide cul-de-sac parking lot. Mariner Lane was also not too far from North Beach Road––the rich people's haven. It was there Serena ended up walking, heading toward the concrete stairs that led down to the beach. At this time of the year the whole area was closed up and lonely, perfect for her mood. She'd just wanted to be alone.

But a blue BMW was parked against a piece of driftwood that doubled as a bumper barrier. Darien's car. Serena recognised it instantly and huddled into her coat. It was chilly. Downright cold. Half expecting to find him making out with some girl in the BMW's back seat, she hid in the shadows of the shuttered-up snow cone hut.

And then she saw a dark figure staggering up the beach toward her. Serena gazed in amazement. The figure had come straight from the water. A skin diver? Good Lord. No one in their right mind would go swimming in water cold enough to kill them!

She gasped as he came into view. Darien! She almost stepped forward to help him up the stairs to the parking spot but her own reserved nature made her hesitate.

He was shaking from head to toe––hypothermia. His pants and shirt were sodden with icy water. His keys rattled between blue fingers. He couldn't get them in the lock. He leaned against the car, spent and frozen. She knew he would collapse.

She stepped forward and went to him, standing several feet away. She said something, something cool and aloof an undoubtedly sarcastic. She couldn't remember exactly what, now.

And then she'd taken the keys from his hands, helped him into his car, driven him to his home, stripped off his clothes and led him to the shower.

_Oh, God!_

_

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_

That was it. The beginning of the end. Even now, the memory was so sharp it cut, and with effort, Serena thrust it away. Shivering, she took a step back from the window. Her fingers dug into her cheeks. She'd helped him and he'd thanked her for saving his life.

But that wasn't all. Oh, no, there had been so much more…

Snatching up her small suitcase, Serena snapped open the locks and began unfolding her clothes. She couldn't think about the past anymore. Tonight. Recalling every word and gesture was exquisite torture, and although she was here to resolve the hurt, there was still areas she refused to touch. She couldn't.

It was just too painful.

Tomorrow, she thought shakily. I'll face the rest of it tomorrow.

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Oh please, review, review, review!

I love hearing people's thoughts on my progress.

Hopefully the next chapter will be out in a week or so, it depends, because it is the holidays and I would like to spend this time with my family or out with my friends.

For now; ta ta.


	3. Beryl

Thank you for your reviews, I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and hope that you enjoy this next chapter of High School Romance!

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

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**Chapter Three**

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**

"Is that you, Darien?" Beryl Shields called from her sitting room, her voice dry from years of bitterness. It rubbed against Darien's flesh like sandpaper, a near-physical sensation.

He stood just inside the front door, in the circular entryway beneath the crystal teardrop chandelier. Before him was the sweeping staircase his mother had sued a wood craftsman over, demanding each post be re-laid, each step be shortened, each board be reset until the man had quit the job and his occupation and retired to a small fishing town on Puget Sound, beaten and old.

The wood––a polished, glossy, deep reddish brown mahogany that looked as rich as caramelized frosting––shone softly in the spreading light. Everything smelled sweet, like cinnamon and apple, and Darien's gaze flicked to the crystal bowl of dried plants; roses, scented wood shavings, lavender and other aromatic herbs designed to bring a sweet, natural fragrance to the household.

Everything smelled sweet for the Shields and looked even sweeter. Beryl made certain of it.

"Darien…?"

He strode down the hallway to the room at the end from which a yellow light melted outward.

He found her just where he'd expected her to be: stiff-backed in a leather recliner, half-moon pewter glasses perched at the end of her aristocratic nose, a _New York Times_ crossword in her lap. She was a widow, and it seemed she had been for nearly as long as Darien was in college.

Daniel's father, Damien Shields, had made a pile of cash buying up beachfront property in the forties and fifties, selling it off little by little, and then buying it back at bargain prices because most of the subsequent purchases found themselves in dire need of ready cash sooner or later.

Young Daniel never lifted a finger to help out, as far as Darien could tell. Darien didn't know exactly how his father had spent his youth, but it hadn't been as a model for the Protestant work ethic. And that attitude had spilled into adulthood because as a husband and father, Daniel had spent his days depositing money in the bank, making love to young women with long legs, then kissing Beryl's expensive cheek with dry lips before retiring to his own bedroom.

Daniel's self-indulgent life-style had produced a few minor scandals. It was rumoured that Daniel had fathered more than one out-of-wedlock child. Darien used to lie awake and wonder about his other brothers and sisters. Apart from Amara, his elder sister by four years, those other sibling were never admitted to, or acknowledged. It bothered Darien deeply, but neither Beryl nor Daniel would speak on the matter.

As for Amara, Daniel paid as little attention to her as he did Darien. Amara was not Beryl's child and although Beryl had agreed that Amara be raised under Shields roof, pseudo-mother and daughter never quite got along. Amara was a by-product of one of Daniel's amorous liaisons before Beryl had actually gotten him to the altar. Amara's biological mother had dropped the child on Daniel's doorstep and run away. And so Beryl did her duty by Amara, the child was a bastard and therefore something to be "dealt with."

Still, the acknowledged Shields children wanted for nothing.

Amara was given the same lavish childhood––if not the affection––that Beryl heaped on Darien. However, Amara while growing up, had developed a love of speed and so competed in races, cars and track alike. Her room would be full of trophies, speed car medals and cups and running track ribbons. It was one of the few features of Amara that Beryl had reason to boast about. If it would present to everyone the perfectness of her family, so be it that everyone knew.

This need for speed eventually led to Amara's escape from the Shields––especially Beryl's––control, she had left for Europe, racing in––and winning––all the races she competed in. And from Darien's current knowledge; Amara is now travelling through Europe's sophisticated and high-class parties with her girlfriend Michelle; an up and coming famous musician with the violin.

So with Amara's departure, Beryl was indefinitely happier. Unfortunately with little else to do, Beryl then turned her intense attention on _her_ only child, and although Darien struggled for his independence, it was a losing battle. His mother scrutinised everything he did, every move he made, every award he won. He could not recall a time when she hadn't tried to monopolise his life and his attention. Darien learned to outfox her at a very early age, but she won the most important battle.

During his sophomore year of college, dreaming of occupations that would take him far from Crescent Bay, Darien was summoned home one rainy weekend right before his father's death to learn a strange truth: Daniel's will left everything to Amara. Neither he nor his mother would get a dime. Darien should have been indignant, but he was more hurt than anything else. Although he and his father hadn't been close, there were a few shared memories, and they were bonded by their love of football.

It was at the reading of the will that Darien learned the real truth, however. If Darien would stay and run the family business, Amara would get a sizeable chunk of fortune but the bulk of the estate would go to Darien and Beryl. If Darien refused, both he and his mother would receive nothing.

He knew, then, what had happened. Beryl had set this up. She'd convinced Daniel that Darien would never accept his duty as head of the family interests unless he was coerced––blackmailed––into it! If Darien didn't take over, his mother would be penniless.

A terrible gamble. An incredible risk. Darien could remember staring at Beryl in cold disbelief.

He'd refused, of course. Ranted and raved and fled back to school. But then Amara had called him. What Beryl had done was sick, rotten and totally unnecessary, she explained, but she, Amara, really didn't want the problems of the Shields business, either. Couldn't Darien forgive his mother and realise just how lonely and desperate she was? Sure, her methods were diabolical, but the truth was: Darien _should _run the business. It was his heritage, his duty. "She's as screwy as she can be," Amara stated flatly, "but she only wants what's best for you."

_What's best for you…_

Darien was sick to the back teeth of that, but with Amara siding with Beryl, he had no real choice. It was his dubious distinction to inherit charge of the family real-estate holdings, and so he finally agreed.

Beryl revelled in her victory, but quietly, as if she knew Darien might change his mind and chuck the whole thing at a moment's notice. She did make a stab at pretending remorse, but her intense pleasure at hearing a full accounting of every boring, nebulous transaction that took place during the workday revealed the real truth: she was a control freak through and through. Her machinations were merely the means to have everything she wanted: Darien, the business and ultimate power.

He managed to graduate from college before she really pushed the job on him, but she steered him through a degree in business administration after a knee injury knocked him out of football in his junior year. Looking back, he could remember her concerned face as he was taken into surgery, but superimposed on that picture was another one: Beryl faintly smiling as Coach Miller bemoaned the fact that he'd lost his star running back, at least for this season.

She'd been glad he was finished with football. Glad she had control again. Daniel had died the previous spring and she wanted Darien to take over as soon as possible. Not that she couldn't do the job herself. She was tough, smart and every bit as cagey as any wheeler-dealer he'd had the misfortune to run across. She did take over, in fact, while he finished up school, but here was another aspect to Beryl that was almost laughable. She was a strict traditionalist and in her mind, women didn't overtly run the family business. It didn't look right and nobody would take the company seriously.

She'd been, after all, a Huntingford before she married the far less prestigious Mr. Daniel Shields with his oodles of money and distressingly nouveau riche ways, and Huntingford women behaved in certain undisputed ways.

It never seemed to matter to Beryl that Huntingfords might have connections to all the important political families of Boston since America was a colony, but nobody gave a damn who or what you were in Crescent Bay, California. She was going to have her son run the company, come hell or high water.

Darien was doomed.

Huntingfords…traditions…appearances…

_What's best for you…_

Now Darien stared at his mother and wondered for the billionth time why she'd ever left her prestigious East Coast roots. She must have lived in misery with a man as untamed and unrepentant as Daniel Shield, yet the word was that she'd loved him once.

They'd met at Brown University where Daniel had taken some graduate courses. Daniel's Great-aunt Trudy, who loved a good yarn with her tea and rum cakes, had implied on many an occasion that Beryl Huntingford had "lost her head and virginity" over that "good-looking cowboy" and that it was a "love math – nothing more, nothing less." This truly was an overly romantic scenario, since Darien's father had been no more a cowboy than he was. No, it was much more likely that Beryl had smelled the sweet, flourishing scent of Shields money and had gone after him like a rocket since the Huntingfords were well-spoken, well respected and well documented, but not well-heeled. Their lineage needed a little shot in the arm with the money needle.

As for love and desire, Darien couldn't believe that anyone as cool and controlled as his mother had ever succumbed to even the briefest moment of passion.

Never did he assume his parents had "done it" more than once.

If Darien wasn't such a carbon copy of his father, with the exception of Beryl's uncompromising jaw, he would have given the idea of adoption more credence. As it was, his heritage was stamped all over him––and as the only Shields male, his future was sealed.

So, here he was, facing his mother, his own expression as impassive as hers as she put down her crossword puzzle, pulled her glasses from her nose and let her steely crimson eyes rake her son from head to toe.

He noticed, then, her trembling hand and watched as she folded one palm over the other to hide their shaking. She was under some inordinate amount of stress.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, stealing the words from his own lips.

"Yeah, I was just going to ask you the same thing. You look kind of––"

He cut himself on a sharp breath. _Serena,_ he realised. Serena had visited his mother. That was why Serena had been on North Beach Road!

With an effort, he hid the swell of emotion that suddenly rocked him. She'd talked to Beryl. On the intercom, he realised, his gaze darting to the switch on the desk. Beryl's eyes followed his and her jaw tightened. A long moment passed between them while Darien speculated on what that conversation must have been like. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall!

Beryl positively loathed Serena Tsukino even to this day, and although Darien had put that portion of his past firmly behind him, his mother somehow never could.

Ridiculous.

A vision of Serena as he'd last seen her––startled eyes and pale white skin––floated through his mind. He swallowed, sensing his heart rate accelerate.

"You saw her," Beryl accused icily.

Darien nodded carefully. "Nearly ran into her."

"Did you talk to her?"

Her voice was quick and anxious. Darien sighed, confused as ever by his mother's naked aversion to Serena Tsukino. "Not really."

"What did you say to her?"

"I said…" He paused, drawing out each syllable, a parry to his mother's thrust that irritated her to the roost of her greying mahogany hair. "I said, 'Hey Serena, how're you doing? It's been a long time. Wanna come in and have a cup of coffee? I know my mother would love to see you.'"

"Stop being facetious."

"Oh, come on. Have a sense of humour."

"I want the truth, Darien. What did you say?" Beryl insisted.

"I said, 'What are you doing here?' and she said…" _Haunting the neighbourhood._

He cleared his throat, stuck but that for reasons he couldn't names. She'd haunted him for a long time, he realised. Maybe if she'd stuck around Crescent Bay it would have been different, but after that wild fall and the subsequent events of their senior year, she'd run as fast and as far as she could. He'd hurt her. And although he'd never admitted it to anyone––scarcely even to himself––she'd hurt him, too.

"She said what?" Beryl prodded, her scarlet eyes flashing with growing alarm.

"She said she was going to be in town as short a time as possible."

"What is she doing here?"

"Visiting, I guess." He glanced away. He didn't want to think about Serena. It was surprising how long pain lasted. He hadn't believed it was possible to feel anything for her except faint regret, but there was a sting inside him now––a sharp little seed that had the power to grow and swell and suddenly burst out and punch you in the solar plexus when you weren't looking.

"Well, I certainly hope she makes it short. She was nothing but trouble as a teenager and, though I know it sounds unkind, I don't believe people change that much as adults."

"Oh, I don't know." Darien shrugged, feeling perverse. "I've changed."

"You're still the same."

She sounded so positive he almost laughed out loud. How the hell did she know? She hadn't paid the least bit of attention to Darien Shields, the person, _ever_. He was only a product to be moulded; an extended part of herself to be used for the benefit of the Shield clan as a whole, which to date consisted only of herself, him and sometimes Amara.

And Caroline, when they found the time to get married, he reminded himself.

As if discerning his thoughts, Beryl added casually, "Caroline called earlier. She said she could skip her last seminars and be back in Crescent Bay tonight."

"I thought this conference lasted through tomorrow." Darien lifted an eyebrow. His mother––for all her manipulations––could be so transparent sometimes.

"It does, but those seminars aren't worth attending, or so Caroline says. She gave a number for you to call." Beryl made a big show of trying to remember where she'd placed the scrap of paper with Caroline's hotel number, but Darien wasn't fooled. Beryl wanted their marriage so badly she couldn't help herself from playing all these coy games. Most of the time he was amused. After all, in the end she would have her way and, in this case, he was willing to play his part. He and Caroline were good for each other. They always had been.

But once in a while, like tonight, a lick of fury ran through him, stirring sleeping embers.

I could have had another life, he thought. I could have had something special.

Serena jumped into his inner vision again––beautiful, smart and sarcastic.

And passionate.

With an effort he took a deep breath and reminded himself that juvenile love affairs should be remembered with nostalgia, nothing.

"I'll call her," he promised, moving away.

"Darien?"

He turned back, making eye contact. Beryl's gaze searched his desperately. Silence stretched between them until he was compelled to glance away first, wondering what she was asking.

He strode from the room and up the winding stairway to the suite of rooms at the back of the house that were his. He had his own place but Beryl kept his old rooms available and ready for him. Not that he every stayed here. But sometimes he stood by the window and stared toward the beach, far below the headland. Sometimes he stared toward the tree house.

He was drifting. Had been for years. Letting himself bob and sway on life's waters as he used to bodysurf in the waves outside his windows.

Now, he gazed down hard at the ocean's feathery white-capped waves, black until they frothed against each other like frosting. Once, he'd dreamed of something else, something better. His jaw twitched and he remembered…

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Hi there, please review! I enjoy seeing how my story has effected you, and your thoughts on it.

So, review, review, review!!!

I will try to update soon, but next week is NYE and NYD, I'll probably be a bit busy.

Either, I'll update early next week, or sometime after all the celebrations.

Farewell!


	4. Haunted Memories

Just wanted to say thank you for your reviews. I hope this chapter will be just as good as the others.

Hehe, took me a while to find the right words for the title, but I feel _haunted_ is perfect, don't you?

Tell me what you think after you've read this chapter.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

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**Chapter Four**

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She was just one of the girls in his class. Skinny. Studious. Nondescript except he couldn't ever remember hating her for being either a tattletale or a shrieking idiot all through grade school. He'd hated every other girl––useless creatures who liked to laugh and whisper and slide looks at you. Darien had spent his youth certain that girls were some kind of punishment guys just had to endure for strange, mystical reason that began with the dawn of the human race.

She was a freshman before he took a second look. By then hormones were raging, and he spent half his time desperately trying to ignore girls, and the other half devoted to sports. Of course the occasional studying helped. But sports saved him, in fact, because they kept his mind focused and his body exhausted.

But even sports couldn't control his every waking moment, and it was to his everlasting joy and despair that girls found him attractive. He had his pick, really, and maybe because of that he chose no one.

He remembered her in science class. He watched the way light glinted off those golden strands shot with silver. Daydreaming was a dangerous occupation, however, and not just because Mr. Tindel glared at him when he lost track of the discussion. No, examining Serena Tsukino's lush hair brought on other thoughts that played havoc with his body––an embarrassment he could really have done without.

She wasn't part of the popular crowd, but the popular crowd was full of well scrubbed, bright faces and shallow dispositions that could easily disintegrate into downright meanness. The only girl in that group worth knowing was Caroline who seemed somehow impervious to the churning nastiness around her.

He hung out with Caroline and the other groupies who seemed to constantly be circling around like manic satellites, but he watched Serena Tsukino. He liked the way her eyebrows drew together when she was reading. He liked the curve of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips. In fact, those lips drew him as much as her silver streaked hair. She rarely wore lipstick. Maybe never. But she was a Chap Stick freak and watching her slide the waxed tup over her lips was almost X-rated in Darien's mind. He remembered groaning aloud once in class and his best buddy, Andrew Hansford, had asked him what was wrong. He blamed it on exhaustion and pretended to collapse on his desk.

After that he fought even glancing Serena's way.

He thought he would get over his physical attraction. Everybody else went through women like candy, and he certainly dated a few and made out with even more. But Serena Tsukino went from being just okay, with nice hair and lips, to outstanding with long, toned legs and breasts that clothes seemed to want to hug.

Darien looked around at the other guys in his class and wondered why no one else saw it. Okay, she was still a little gawky, slower to develop than some. But he could almost watch her daily and predict what was going to happen. Beauty and unconscious sensuality were heading her way like a freight train.

The coming transformation was enough to leave him weak at the knees.

Yet she was still Serena Tsukino whose family was a source of head shaking and lip pursing to the adults. She _had_ to be loose, he'd heard more than one old biddy pronounce. Father a drunk. Mother a weak and weary woman. No money. No family honour.

It was a wonder Serena had gotten as far as she had. For the remainder of his freshman year she circled his fantasies. Once, he seized an opportunity to talk to her. She was with her two friends, Molly and Amy, but Serena seemed disassociated from them. There was a faraway look in her eyes, a haunted yearning for something that touched as answering chord inside Darien. He approached her as she was leaving school, her two friends chattering her wake. They shut up as if someone had slammed a door in front of them as soon as Darien approached Serena.

"Hard to believe school's almost out, isn't it?" he said, mouth dry. He heard his voice as if her were an outsider and cringed. What a dork! As a pickup line it left much to be desired.

She slid him a glance. Her eyes were a baby blue beneath long, thick lashes––and they shimmered with hostility. Darien was taken aback.

"Hard to believe," she agreed coolly.

"I just meant it's gone kind of fast. Freshman year."

"Uh-huh."

He'd been frozen out by girls before. Julie Lawrence had treated him like he had the plague when he dumped her after they made out in eighth grade at Caroline's fourteenth birthday party. But Julie's kind of freeze was different; she turned up her nose when she saw him, then cried gallons of tears to her friends and made sure he knew it. She'd been kind of fun to hang out with but he'd sensed a desperation beneath her cool-girl exterior and warning bells had sounded.

At a tender age he's learned about girl's manipulations and sometime-clinging ways, but Serena Tsukino didn't fit the pattern. And so she intrigued him.

School let out for the summer and Darien spent his time surfing or bored to tears in his father's real-estate office, learning the ropes. Thoughts of Serena faded as those summer nights turned warmer. Tourists arrived, an influx of nubile girls with bodies just starting to curve. He lost his virginity the night before school started with a girl who possessed huge blue eyes and even huger breasts.

Stacey Sanderson. A transferee from Los Angeles who'd practically thrown him down in the sand and made love to him. Darien had gone through the motions, slightly detached, and then had suffered acute embarrassment and annoyance at himself. He tried to explain to her that he wasn't interested in some kind of serious relationship, but Stacey wouldn't listen. She followed him around school, waited outside the gates of his house, broke into his BMW, called him incessantly.

It was psychological hell, and Darien didn't know what to do.

Enter: Beryl. The ultimate Mother Bear.

"Who is that girl?" she demanded, while Stacey strolled along North Beach Road. "Did you give a ride? You've barely got your license. You shouldn't pick up strange girls."

"She's not a strange girl." Darien refused to talk about it with Beryl.

No problem. His mother called up the school and talked to the teachers, counsellors and principal. Then she phoned the Sandersons and they packed up and moved back to Los Angeles.

Darien thought that would be the end of it, but his first conquest called him long distance from Los Angeles three nights out of seven and started saying things like she would commit suicide if he didn't love her. Beryl grabbed the phone and warned Stacy that she would institute legal action if she didn't stop harassing her son.

Embarrassment! Humiliation! That one night of love-making became the talk of the school because Beryl made no secret of the fact that her son was wanted by the feminine gender. It was some of kind of badge of honour for her, like having him be the captain of the football team or pitcher on the baseball team.

But worse was the fact that Darien was glad Beryl had stepped in. It sure as hell made things easier. Stacey finally stopped calling. He'd wondered about her over the years and found, to his astonishment, that his mother knew all about her. She'd made it her business. To date, Stacey had married twice, born a child by each husband, and was currently fighting an alcohol problem.

Obsession. He swore to himself he would be more careful in the future. And when one night he discovered one of the most outrageous, on-the-edge senior girls in his bedroom, he nearly freaked. It was all he could do to maintain his cool and pretend the reason he wasn't interested in a little recreational sex was because mum and dad were right downstairs.

When Darien complained about the girls, his friend Andrew spoke plainly. "You've got it all, buddy. Money, looks and athletics. My dad always said it'd be a problem someday."

"Yeah, some problem," Matt snorted. "Hurt me some more." And he and Andrew both howled with laughter and envy.

Darien gave up confiding in them, but the situation nearly scared him off girls entirely. He spent most of his time hanging out with Caroline and her wholesome friends. He grew to appreciate Caroline in a way he hadn't before, and he became aware that her fondness for him was blossoming into romance and better yet, sexual desire. But his previous experience had made him cautious. Fooling around with Caroline would be prime disaster.

Wasn't there any girl who just wanted a good time, no strings attached?

He was pondering that very issue in biology class one afternoon and when the bell rang he was so turned on he could scarcely think. His flock of admirers waited outside the door but they just made him feel tired and frustrated. Any one of them could be another Stacey Sanderson.

He wanted something else, something fresh and exciting. Something to think about while he lay on his bed at night. Something to look forward to every morning and let his thoughts touch on throughout the day.

His group walked with him down the hall, chattering like magpies and grabbing at his arm and letterman's jacket, generally being a royal pain in the butt. Briefly he flirted with the idea of taking one of them to bed, but no, that was disaster in the making. He couldn't just blow them off, however; it wasn't in his nature. So, he put up with their attention.

And then he saw Serena Tsukino by her locker.

He sighed. Every time he noticed her he'd been subjected to a frigidity that could have ended global warming for all time. She clearly hated him. And she'd come out of her cocoon to zing him with some sharp remarks that had left him feeling confused and angry and certain he was missing something. This time was no different. She made some remark about the way he spoke.

What the hell was her problem, anyway? He turned to stare at her in surprise. This was the first time she'd dared to challenge him overtly. His admirers glared at her and made rude remarks, but she kept packing up her bags with unhurried regality and suddenly he wanted to crack that icy façade once and for all.

Before he had time to think, he was in front of her, crowding her space, and although a hundred comments flashed through his mind, he said only, "My dad and I are going to Pullman tomorrow to the Cougars game."

In fascination he watched the flush creep up her slim neck and burn her face. She wouldn't look at him, however, so he stayed where he was, waiting, secretly glad this moment of confrontation had arrived. He'd been longing for it, he realised then. Biding his time. Hoping for an opportunity.

The other girls faded from his sight as if they'd magically disappeared. He saw no one but Serena. Her head was dipped down, her eyes focused with studied concentration on the pile of books she'd stuffed into her bag. Eventually she half turned, lifting those clear, vulnerable eyes, to meet his gaze.

He couldn't remember the rest of the conversation. He'd accused her of always making snide remarks, or something, but all he saw and felt was her––those eyes, that pert, slightly freckled nose, that lustrous skin.

For an instant they connected. He felt it painfully, breathlessly. It startled him but he managed to keep it hidden. At least he hoped he did, but then she slammed her locker and tried to leave but the stitching on her bag gave way and books flew everywhere.

Automatically he bent to help her, his arm brushing hers. It felt like the proverbial electric current and he barely had the time to marvel at this when she jerked away, nearly overbalancing herself. So he reached out and grabbed her arm.

It seemed so perfect. He wanted her like none other and now he was holding her and, well, his own youthful cockiness rose to his rescue. He was, after all, Darien Shields, and heretofore women were as available as the air he breathed. Smiling, he simply waited for her to recognise that they had something here––chemistry or magic or just plain old sexual energy. He forgot all he reservations about getting too involved with a girl. He _would_ sleep with her.

But Serena Tsukino didn't respond like he'd imagined. Her eyes narrowed and she slowly and deliberately pulled her arm free. For an awkward moment he expected her to say something, but she merely hung on to her bag and waited for him to leave.

"I'll try to speak better," he told her. She didn't respond, so he was forced to return to his hovering group. Confounded, he refused to look back, although it killed him to walk down the hall without her.

Months passed, the end of sophomore year came, then summer, then football season once again. Junior year and he was with Caroline. He'd gotten over that weird thing with Serena Tsukino, or so he told himself and although his antennae seemed to twitch whenever she was around, he made a pact with himself to stop thinking such dorky, romantic thoughts about her. He'd been a kid last year. Stupid and eager and somehow attracted to this girl who wasn't even in her league. Besides, all he'd wanted was sex, wasn't it? No strings attached. Serena Tsukino possessed a sexy body and time had only added to its desirability.

Enclosed in this self-protective fog, Darien wandered around clueless for weeks, certain he knew how he felt. But slowly he realised that he wasn't the only one who'd noticed Serena Tsukino's various attributes. Other guys slid her surreptitious looks, only now she slid them looks right back!

What had once been Darien's secret passion was suddenly everyone's newest crazy: Serena Tsukino, Babe Extraordinaire. He heard her name on his friends' lips. They spoke of her in terms of body parts: eyes, legs, breasts, butt. They repeated clever things she'd said to them––not the cold remarks she'd tossed his way, but nice words and compliments that made his friends' eyes glaze over when they were recounted and enjoyed anew.

Even Andrew was particularly smitten. He babbled on and on about her. About how he hoped she would take a job at Crown Fruit Parlour. About how he was working on it.

Darien could scarcely stand it. Time and time again he felt a passionate rage lick through him when some guy mentioned Serena. Andrew was bad enough, but other guys weren't as nice about it. Once Darien nearly picked a fight with Diamonde Campbell, the team's wide receiver, for making a crude remark about what he would do for Serena Tsukino when he got her into bed. Bets were placed on when that would be.

Darien ground his teeth and reminded himself that he didn't give a hot damn about any of it.

Homecoming came and Darien threw a dozen passes into Diamonde's waiting hands. They were an awesome team on the field, making mincemeat of the other team and showing up the lazy seniors who were big on bragging but small on talent. Off the field Darien and Diamonde couldn't stand each other, however, and that was a battle that had begun long before Serena Tsukino.

Still, for that night they slapped palms like old friends and grinned deliriously at their success. It was great to be on top. To be the best of the best. To be Darien Shields, all-star quarterback.

He went to the homecoming dance warm with satisfaction. People paid court to him, and he ate it up like any other teenager who was the centre of attention. But somewhere during the evening he realised he felt vaguely dissatisfied. Checking around inside himself. He couldn't come up with an answer to his problem. Here he was with the brunette, popular Caroline Newsmith on his arm, his buddies, Andrew Hansford and Matt Dalton, hanging nearby, and Diamonde Campbell, his worst rival, a friend for tonight at least, as they basked in their shared triumph.

It should have been perfect.

"Hey," Caroline whispered, reading his mood. "You were great tonight."

"Yeah?" He tried to pay attention. She smelled good, her hair shining rich chocolate beneath coloured lights. Inhaling deeply, he wondered with a certain amount of alarm why she didn't stir his blood. Maybe it was a good thing. Sexual involvement with Caroline would be a major problem. She just wasn't that kind of girl.

But why not? Why not feel just a little healthy lust?

"I swear I'm hoarse from cheering," Caroline continued, resting her head on his shoulder. "Did you hear us? Susan and I were screaming at the top of our lungs and some older people told us to quiet down. We didn't, of course." She giggled. This was the height of true rebellion for Caroline.

Darien dragged her closer until the contours of her body melded to his. Inside, his own rebellion seemed to be heating up, burning like molten steel. He hadn't slept with a girl since Stacey, and he was beginning to feel angry and frustrated.

He thought, _I want a bad girl…_

Caroline squirmed at the pressure, but she tried not to let him know. Instantly he eased up, mad at himself. Just as instantly she relaxed against him again, peering at him sideways, searching his expression.

"You want to leave?" he asked abruptly. "This is so boring."

"I'd kind of like to stay." Her brows knit in confusion. She was totally at sea about his feelings and that bugged Darien too.

"Well, I'm going. I can drop you off, or somebody'll take you home."

"I can catch a ride with Susan," she responded frostily, and although Darien should have felt remorse, he was too anxious to feel much of anything but relief.

He drove for house, the car window down so that the bite of fall air cleared his head, the radio up so that music throbbed and deafened. He circled Crescent Bay in erratic loops, passing by all the hangouts, consumed with an urgency that was almost violent. For the first time in his life, he wanted to drink and fight and indulge in meaningless sex and damn the consequences. He yearned for relief from this nameless demon that rode him.

What the hell was the matter with him?

With a screech of tires he pulled into a viewing sport at the end of Mariner Lane, at the edge of the beach. Tearing off his letterman's jacket, shoes and socks, he tromped down to the ocean and let the water numb his feet and ankles. Flinging himself into the surf nearly stopped his heart; the water was glacial. Dragging in a choked breath, he didn't back down. It was as if he were on some nameless, self-destructive mission, like lemmings throwing themselves into the sea.

He bobbed aimlessly, sometimes floating like a dead man, eyes opened to a black cold sky; sometime swimming against the tide until his arms felt like lead weights and his breath rasped in his throat. The sky had few stars dusted in it, but the moon clearly shone through the city's light pollution. It somewhat calmed the inner turmoil within Darien, but he could still feel that yearning for something, lurking, for now, subdued by the frozenness of the waters.

He was so cold by the time he fought his way back to the beach he could scarcely stand. His own foolishness finally penetrated his dull brain, and he marvelled that he could have tempted fate this far. Was he trying to kill himself? No. Was he stupid enough to put his life at risk because he felt frustrated and disconnected and unhappy? Yes, apparently.

At the car, he couldn't manage getting the key into the lock. His fingers were yellow-white with cold and whole body shivered uncontrollably as if it were in its last death throes. He couldn't move his lips even to swear; his jaw was frozen half-open. Unable to perform this one tiny task that would save him from freezing, he wondered if he would actually die of exposure outside his BMW, his key in his hands.

At first he didn't feel her presence; he was way too immersed in more physical problems. But suddenly she was there, her coat flapping against her legs, her hair lifted by the wind and moving seductively against her shoulders like sea foam. He stared at her like the village idiot, unable to move, speak or think.

"You went swimming," she observed. "Probably not the choice I would have made on a night like tonight."

His teeth chattered in response. The keys rattled in his palsied hand.

Serena hesitated for the length of one heartbeat, her brows drawn together in alarm and understanding. Extracting the keys, she made short work of the lock but when Darien couldn't climb inside, she put her arm around his waist and half hoisted him onto the seat.

"What in God's name were you doing out there?" she demanded, puffing from exertion. Her luminous eyes caught a glancing beam of moonlight. Darien felt faint and light-headed and wondered if he was going to pass out.

"Do you need someone to drive you?" she demanded.

He shook his head. Fine, bright lights seemed to dazzle his eyes.

"Are you certain?"

Darien fought his shivering but hypothermia had grabbed him in a death grip. He was going under and part of him didn't care.

He didn't feel the slap; numbness overrode everything. But he was suddenly blinking and awake, and Serena's open palm explained it all. He thought she might hit him again, but when he looked her way, she ordered, "Stay awake, Darien, do you understand?"

Oh, he understood. He was in big trouble. He nodded.

"You've got to stay awake."

"Okay," he mumbled, but it was just a whoosh of sound from his lungs that didn't form words.

"Move over," she commanded, pushing him until he fell over the gearshift and against the passenger door. He felt so brittle he thought he might break into a million pieces. Climbing behind the wheel, she stated calmly, "I don't have my license, but I figure this is something of an emergency."

With that she twisted the ignition and with a cautious expertise that Darien appreciated much later when he was finally warm and safe again, she drove him home. She made noise about taking him to the nearest hospital, but he adamantly refused and so she drove him up the hill to what she referred to as Shields Manor.

The house was dark; his parents were in bed before ten every night. Serena helped him from the car, through the gates and back door into the kitchen.

He fumbled with his clothes. There was no hope for it. Serena hovered by the door, wanting to bolt, but he heard her mutter something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a string of obscenities, and then she was helping him while he stood by, passive as a sleeping baby.

She undid his belt and dropped his wet jeans to the floor. His boxers were plastered to his legs. She pulled his shirt and undershirt over his head in one swoop, then said calmly, "You need a shower or a bath or something."

He shuffled down the hall, and Serena followed slowly behind, unwilling, he supposed, to abandon her patient until she was completely assured he would live. He was glad she was there. He needed someone, and he realised vaguely that he needed someone all night. There was a guest room and bathroom––more like a maid's quarters really––beneath his own wing of rooms. He led the way, Serena behind him. The shower had been redone in a curve of translucent glass brick and Serena briskly turned the taps. A rush of hot, moist air filled the room.

A moment later, she said, "I'm going to leave it on the barely warm side or you won't be able to stand it."

Darien was hardly in a position to argue even if he wanted to. Still numb, he hobbled into the shower with his boxers on. Through the glass he could see her wavy form move toward the door. "Wait!" he croaked out.

She stopped. Silently. Darien's gaze stayed on the distorted colours that were Serena as the heat from the shower hurt his frozen feet and limbs. It seemed as if the water were boiling hot until his flesh began to warm and he realised the shower was barely lukewarm. Slowly he turned up the hot tap, but it seemed like hours before he felt his blood heat. The whole time, his gaze stayed glued to Serena who hung by the door as if waiting for someone to open it from the other side and free her. Darien chafed at the delay. What if she left too soon? He didn't want her to leave. He wanted her here, with him; and with growing insight, he realised that she was what he'd been waiting for all night.

Eventually he stepped from the shower. She still hovered by the door, looking oddly scared now, although earlier she'd been in such maximum control. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his waist and wished he could peel the wet boxers off without spooking her into running like a deer.

That was what she looked like––a scared fawn. Gone was the steel-voiced woman who acted with such cool determination. This was a new, vulnerable Serena, and he could tell by the way her lips pursed that she didn't like it one bit.

"Thanks," he said, wiping wet hair from his face. He was glad his voice was back.

She nodded. "You probably would have frozen to death if I hadn't come along."

"No kidding. I must have been out of my mind."

"It looked that way."

He snorted in agreement. Now that the initial crisis was over he felt like a moron. God, what did she think? He practically owed her his life.

"What possessed you to go swimming in the ocean tonight? I mean, what's the water temperature? Fourty degrees? Are you crazy?"

"Yeah…" He half laughed. "I guess I am."

"Do you have some kind of death wish?"

"Not usually."

"Was this some kind of macho dare?" she asked her starch returning.

"No, I was just thinking that wanted to get away from everything."

"Rather drastic measures."

"Hey, it wasn't a suicide attempt, if that's what you're thinking. I just wanted everything––to stop"

The words came from somewhere inside himself. What had been eating at him all day, all week, maybe all year, suddenly seemed so clear.

"Thanks for saving me," he said quietly.

"Oh…no." She shrugged that off, embarrassed. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Don't tell anybody, all right?" He half smiled. "They wouldn't understand."

"Who would I tell?"

"Your friends."

"I don't have those kind of friends," she without rancour.

"Neither do I," he said, because it was the truth. He didn't have the kind of friends he could really trust. But he didn't see how Serena could take it. However, Darien didn't realise how condescending he might sound until Serena's face flushed pink and hey eyes glittered.

"Oh excuse me. Darien Shields doesn't have any friends. I didn't realise that."

"I didn't say that."

"Yeah?" she arched one disbelieving eyebrow.

"I said I don't have those kinds of friends. That's what you said, and I agreed with you. That's all."

"What about Andrew Hansford? Matt Dalton?"

"Look I just said––"

"Don't feel sorry for me, okay? I can handle myself. I don't need you telling me you understand my problems, or that you can feel what I feel. You don't have a clue!"

"Hey." He lifted his hands in surrender. "Stop being so defensive. I guess I made a mistake. Sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

Silence pooled between them. He was truly baffled by her prickliness. Okay, so she hadn't been born with a silver spoon stuck firmly between her teeth like he had. Big deal. Some people were just born with inner class and she was one of them. He could appreciate that. Too bad she couldn't.

"I've gotta go," she said abruptly.

"Wait."

This time he put his hand on her wrist. That was a mistake because he could feel her recoil from his touch. But it was a mistake he was glad he'd made because he wanted to touch her, and he was also glad in a perverse sort of way that his touch affected her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded suspiciously as he leaned toward her.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. He was just reacting. Reacting to a long, hard night and a brush with death that had made him light-headed.

She was rigid as steel but warm. She'd tried to freeze him out so many times he'd half believed she was made of ice. But her skin was smooth, supple and hot beneath his hand and because he wasn't thinking quite clearly, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

If she'd truly believed he was going to kiss her she would have pulled away; she told him that later when they could laugh about it. But at that moment she was so stunned that he'd actually dragged her into his arms that her lips were parted on a gasp of disbelief. The feel of her half-open mouth was an invitation. Darien thrust his tongue inside its heat and groaned with desire.

And she bit down with all she was worth.

"Goddammit!" he howled, shoving her away from him. He could taste blood.

"You bastard," she whispered. "Touch me again and I'll kill you."

And then she was gone. Darien was left to nurse his injury and thank his lucky stars that she hadn't tried to bite off his tongue in earnest. In reality, it was a minor wound.

Later, lying in bed, reviewing the scene, he was embarrassed at his strange and inappropriate boldness. For a moment he'd believed she was his, that she wanted him. For a moment there'd been no question. For a moment…

With a groan, he shoved his head under the pillow and vowed to forget her, but even as he made the pledge, he knew it possessed no strength.

He was going to do his damnedest to have Serena Tsukino. She was the one and only thing he'd wanted in a long, long time.

* * *

Now, Darien blinked awake like a sleep walker. The waves still roiled toward shore outside his windows and the piece of paper with Caroline's hotel number still lay in his hand. Only he'd crumpled it into a minuscule ball.

Emotion sang through him. So long ago yet so powerful. It could have been yesterday. First loves were impossible to forget, but he wondered if others still felt them as keenly as he sometimes did. It bothered him a bit. What if this was some irreparable flaw in his character that would haunt him forever?

A moment later he chuckled. Then he threw back his head and laughed. Good grief, he was going mad! So Serena Tsukino had materialised in Crescent Bay. So what? It wasn't like she had the power to turn his life inside out again. That was a symptom of his teens years, and he'd been cured of this illness long ago.

No, as far as he was concerned. There was nothing Serena Tsukino could do or say that would make any different to him now. There were no ties between them, apart from a few bittersweet memories.

With a renewed sense of control he picked up the phone to call Caroline.

* * *

So...What do you think?

Review and tell me your opinions! Honesty is the preferred method.

A bit long yeah, I know. I wanted to fit Darien's flashback in one chapter instead of dragging it over 2 chapters.

I will try to update soon, maybe in a week or so?

*~*Adieu*~*


	5. Emotion Overload

I gotta say, thanks a lot for your encouraging reviews! Now, onwards with Chapter 5!

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I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

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**Chapter Five**

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**

The espresso shop two blocks from the beach also sold magazines and newspapers, and smelled like a combination of briny air, rich coffee and newsprint. Serena cradled a vanilla mocha between cold hands, a treat to herself that she seldom otherwise drank. But these were desperate times. She needed sustenance and strength and whole lot of courage, and if a sweet, hot drink would help, so be it.

The clientele of Beachtime Coffee was as varied as Crescent Bay's residents. A couple in the corner wore matching royal blue sweaters tied around their necks, preppy-style, their heads bent close over an article in the newspaper. An elderly man sat rigidly in a chair, eyes focused on the clock although Serena had come to understand he wasn't watching the time; he was merely faced that way, focused on inner thoughts entirely his own. Two teenagers with long, ragged hair, baggy pants, T-shirts and skater shoes were digging coins out of their pockets in a combined effort to purchase coffee, leaving their skateboards propped against the wall outside the door.

Serena did a mental inventory of her own appearance: loose ponytail, blue jeans, black body-hugging ribbed turtleneck sweater, black belt with a silver buckle winking at her waist. She doodled on a pad with a red felt pen and found to her dismay that she'd written "Darien" several times. Well, he was on her mind, wasn't he? He was the reason she was here, wasn't he? It was only natural.

She'd blown their meeting the night before. Blown it. He'd taken her by surprise, and she'd reacted like a teenager. Maybe that was to be expected since the last time she'd seen him they'd been teenagers.

Not that she was so incredibly mature now. She still have trouble reviewing the events of the night she'd found him shivering by his car, for crying out loud! She didn't want to recall that first kiss, when he'd wrapped her in his shower-dampened arms and pressed his mouth urgently against hers.

Her pulse jerked in recollection, a wave of emotion rushing over her. Damn it all. Swiping furiously at a loose strand of hair she wondered when––_when!_––would she be immune to those memories. Ridiculous! She should have quit with him right then, right after biting his tongue; but no, that hadn't been the end but the beginning. She'd come away from that night with a new awareness of Darien Shields. No longer could she cover her feelings with sarcasm; she was too affected, too aware.

And the number of times after rescue that she'd felt weight of Darien's gaze on her said he felt the same way, although they both tried to act like nothing happened.

* * *

At school and at Crown's doing her homework, life settled into a pattern. Somewhere after midnight every night, she would fall into bed to dream about Darien. She lived for those moments when she caught a glimpse of him, reviewed every nuance of every rare smile he sent her way, every intense look. She liked school because it was where he was––and it was away from home. She liked working because Darien dropped in at Crown's on a regular basis, and Fred himself made Serena feel special.

Even now she could still visualise Fred, hands covered in sauce or drink, shooing the other teenage employees home around ten o'clock. "Get outta here. Get some rest. Study hard," he would yell at them, but Serena stayed later, unwilling to leave. This concerned Fred at first, and he shook his finger and demanded she do her homework if she was just "gonna hang around and make trouble." But later he seemed to understand that home to Serena was not a home at all.

Fred, himself, never seemed to tire. He had stories galore about growing up in a family of seven and what it was like raising three children of his own. That he loved them fiercely was self-evident, although Andrew seemed to always be in trouble for treating one of his friends or family member the exact same way Fred wanted him to.

"Don't you want to talk with your mother?" Fred demanded one afternoon. "All day long she waits for you to come home and then off you go with your friends."

"I come to work here!" Andrew replied, exasperated.

"And then where do you go?"

"Home!"

"No, you don't. You run around with that Thumien Shields in his fancy blue car and never talk your mother."

Serena felt empathy for Andrew. Andrew did spend a lot of time with Darien but he was the first to say it was time he got home. Fred was a bit unfair in his assessment of Andrew's family duties, but at some level Serena realised was just protecting Andrew from hanging out with the rich crowd from North Beach Road. He worried his son would get hurt.

She was the one who should have listened to this advice.

As Serena poured over her homework in booth on the other side of the parlour, she couldn't help but witness to Fred and Andrew's arguments on the subject.

"It's Darien, not Thumien," Andrew would mutter, a last stab of rebellion.

"I don't care if it's Daisy. It's not a good idea, you hanging with that crowd and neglecting your mother."

"I'm not!"

Fred would then turn to Serena with a "You see?" expression before shooting Andrew a dark look and slamming through the door to the back storage room and office, and Andrew would turn to Serena with a "Can you believe this?" look, and she would laugh and want to hug them both.

"I just love your dad," she declared one night, smiling fondly.

"Yeah…" Andrew gazed at her. Underneath his outgoing personality was an inherent shyness, particularly with girls. She knew he had a crush on her, and she'd been debating what to do about it. Darien filled her thoughts and her original plan to make Andrew her first boyfriend had lost its appeal.

The truth was, she liked him too much to play with his emotions. And she was head over heels for Darien.

Unfortunately her heartfelt remark about Fred only seemed to increase Andrew's admiration for her. She had to do something, and do it fast.

In what would turn out to be her own particular behaviour pattern, she ran.

"I've gotta go," she muttered, collecting her books and heading for the door.

"It's still early."

"I know, but I've got tons of homework to do."

"Do you want to do something, sometime…?"

Too late. The words were out, hanging between them. Serena felt awful. Once again, a girl had fallen for Darien and Andrew was just his sidekick. She wished with all her heart that she felt differently.

"I can't," she murmured, hating herself a little.

"Oh, okay."

He didn't even ask why––which made her feel even worse. Hesitating, she reached out a hand and touched the sleeve of his jacket. "Thanks, Andrew."

"For what?" he asked perplexed.

Shaking her head, Serena hurried out. A car throbbing with stereo music suddenly zipped into the parking spot in front of her, scaring her so badly that she jumped back and gasped.

Darien Shields. Emotions swarmed through her as he levered his lean body from the car. His scent reached her through the soft autumn air and the squeak of leather from his letterman's jacket sent a frisson down her spine. She loved him so much, sometimes it left her breathless; yet, apart from that one intense night, they'd done nothing but shared a few stolen glances.

She lovesick and stupid and vulnerable. She couldn't stand herself.

"Hi, Serena," he said in his husky voice. The memory of his shower-dampened arms surrounding her swept over her, enveloping her. She pushed it away with an almost-physical effort.

"Hi." She scurried into the night. Her parents' house was five blocks west and three blocks north––a bungalow built fifty years earlier, ramshackle now and sadly in need of repair, but it was close enough o walk to.

"Where're you going?" he called after her.

"Home."

"Want a ride?" he asked, his keys rocking musically between his fingers.

She turned and stared, ignoring the raven thickness of his hair, his long, jeans-clad legs and his attentive look. Focusing somewhere near his neck, she shook her head. "Naw, it's close by. Thanks anyway."

"You can drive again…"

She refused to acknowledge their connection, refuse to meet his gaze, refuse to _know_ him. A long moment stretched out. Her heart beat heavily. She wanted to say something clever and sarcastic, but there was a blockage in her throat and her ears were deafened by her own heartbeat. Besides, she was crazy to feel this way. She'd bitten him, for God's sake! He wasn't likely to forget.

At that moment Crown's door flew open. Andrew peeked his head out, shattering the moment. "Hey Serena, let me walk you home," he called, oblivious to Darien.

Serena opened her mouth to protest, but suddenly found herself saying instead, "That'd be great," her smile a blinding light. Its effect on Darien and Andrew was unmistakeable, and Serena groaned inwardly, aware she was toying with emotions she shouldn't. She knew better! Andrew deserved better.

But she wanted Darien.

"I'll walk with you guys," Darien said, pocketing his keys, and the three of them made their way to Serena's house.

Serena's moment of feminine glory disintegrated. Growing dread took its place. What would they think when they saw her house? And what if her father was home, drunk and surly? She suddenly couldn't bear the thought.

"Thanks a lot, guys, but it's right over there." She waved vaguely. "I can make it the rest of the way by myself. See you later."

She half ran to the end of the block and the darkened house around the corner. Andrew made an aborted attempt to follow after her but Darien stood back and watched. She raced up the front steps, gasping for breath, her books slipping from her arms. Twisting the knob, she was relieved to find the door unlocked, but held her breath until she saw her father fast asleep in the armchair in front of the television.

In the sanctuary of her bedroom she turned on a light, undressed quickly and climbed into bed, dragging her books with her. But although she furtively studied, frightened of wakening her father with the merest of sound, her vision was clouded with images of Darien Shields climbing from his blue car, stretching his legs, and gazing at her with such studied vision that she read the same page of her history book over and over again.

* * *

Now, a lifetime later, she could remember every feeling as if it had been yesterday––not fourteen years ago. Twiddling her red pen, she scratched out Darien's name by drawing scarlet hearts over the damaging evidence. Valentine hearts.

Valentine's day…

Pain was suddenly huge inside her, filling her lungs, squeezing out all the air. Her throat grew hot and arid. She felt weak all over. Drained and empty.

Picking up her vanilla mocha, she glanced around, certain Beachtime Coffee's other customers would somehow divine her thoughts. Her lips quivered and she covered up with a quick swallow of mocha. Wishing for a miracle––the chance to live her life over again––she whispered, "Oh Darien," in a suffocated voice. She had to tell him the truth––and soon.

* * *

**IMPORTANT NOTICE**

Is there anyone who would like to write for me a steamy and lemon scene? Its for later on in the sory, but I have to say I'm still new to writing lemony stuff.

So if you're interested and wanna write the piece for me; contact me via private message, and I'll give you further details about the particular scene.

This is only if you want a lemony scene, so if you want one, you gotta help me make one.

If not... I'll just do my best... =.=;

* * *

So, now please review! Tell me your thoughts, your likes, your dislikes.

Honesty is always the best way.

Stay tuned for Chapter 6!!

Sayanara! =^.^=


	6. Paranoia

Hi, I'm a bit sorry, for the delayed update, but here it is! Please enjoy Chapter Six; Paranoia.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**

* * *

**

"Could I pay a hundred dollars now," the voice on the end of the line entreated, trembling, "and maybe the rest later on? I just don't have it right now, and I don't know what to do."

Darien stared out of his office window. Emerald Campbell had been perennially late with her rent since the moment she took over one of his least expensive apartment units. Already she was two months past due and getting deeper into debt each day that passed. She was Diamonde Campbell's ex-wife, a sweet girl whose love for her husband couldn't save their crumbling marriage. Dimande just wasn't made of the kind of stuff husbands should be. Three children and one half-baked reconciliation later, she was struggling to make ends meet, but Diamonde still wasn't holding up his end of the bargain, and Emerald had become dependent on Darien's charity to survive.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

"I can't turn you out, Emerald," he admitted with characteristic honesty, "but we're both in a tough position."

"I know." Relief sang through her voice. She could hear he was about to relent––again.

"Pay what you can now," he said brusquely. "We'll work it out."

"Thank you," she whispered, fighting back tears.

Darien gently hung up the phone. Emerald was not his responsibility. His responsibility was to the family business. Now, if Beryl were running the business she would evict Emerald flat out, but since Beryl had abdicated to the only Shields male, well…he would just have to handle things his way, and she could stew. That is, if she ever even found out. Since taking over the business wholeheartedly, Darien had made a point of forcing his mother to stay out of the way. She still fought him, but Darien had learned the power of "No" ––"No, I'm not interested in your help…No, I've got everything under control…No, it's time for you to relinquish control…_No, thank you_…"

She might hate it, but there wasn't a hell of a lot she could do about it.

Outside his window lay a second-storey view of Crescent Bay's main street––a crooked two-lane avenue where lazy traffic crept between the shops and intermittent rain spattered the cars and pavement. Late January with weather alternating between stormy and furious, calm and benign. Yesterday was hell, today was okay. Life goes on…

Watching a couple of kids, hands clasped together surge between the traffic and scamper down the street. Darien was struck by an urgent desire to run. _Run!_ Run away forever! The feeling was so strong Darien gripped the arms of his chair, heart thudding. His chest ached. Then the wave passed and he sank backward, nearly breathless.

He shook his head in wonder, afraid to examine this sudden panic attack. He wasn't normally prone to paranoia and stress.

With a niggling feeling that he was somehow being a coward, unable to face his true self, he shrugged the moment's anxiety away. Nothing to worry about. A symptom of too much reflection and not enough action. Not his style.

Across the street and nearly out of his range of vision, he could just spy the sign for Crown Fruit Parlour glowing dully under gray skies. Darien snorted in derision.

Was Serena there? The two went together in his mind: Crown Parlour and Serena Tsukino. Although Andrew Hansford was still a friend, Darien had scarcely set foot inside Crown's since Serena's disappearance right before high school graduation. At first the idea had been painful, and then it had just seemed wrong somehow––a symbol of all that wasted, high-school emotional trauma.

God, it was good to grow up!

The telephone intercom buzzed. "Caroline's here," his part-time receptionist sang out.

"Send her in," he replied in his mock-important voice. Although the Shields holdings were vast, the actual day-to-day operations were minimal and using an intercom amused him when he could just as well shout through the partially open door.

But, hey, the trappings of wealth and success were supposed to be important, weren't they?

When Caroline came into the room, Darien found himself holding his breath.

There was something about his fiancé a quality that always put him a little on guard, even though he truly cared about her. Sometimes she was cool to the point of icy––a personality trait that bother her a great deal, but one she couldn't seem to change.

Sometimes she was overly friendly and clingy, as if she were trying to subvert her own inherent reserve by pure force. Darien had told her to "relax" so many times, he'd given up. She was what she was. Take it or leave it.

Sometimes he wondered…

Today she wore an emerald-green shirt and black slacks, her brown hair tied back in a black velvet ribbon, her face nearly obscured by a huge potted fern from which she peeked around, smiling.

"I told you that you need a little life in here," she said. "Look at this office! It's so _sterile_."

Darien shrugged in agreement, just as he always did when she fussed over things that meant zero to him. This office. This job.

This life…?

Setting the plant on his desk, she leaned over and deposited a quick peck on his cheek. He caught a whiff of perfume, heavy, expensive and nameless, before she backed away. Caroline couldn't handle hugs and sloppy affection, but then, Darien realised wryly, neither could he. They were both dispassionate to a fault, which was why, he supposed, he'd felt his skin crawl at the thought of getting married on Valentine's Day––a suggestion that had come up recently from a surprising source.

"So, what's new this early morning?" Caroline asked, perching on a corner of his desk. Her breasts lay directly in his line of vision. Darien gazed at them through half-closed lids, wondering vaguely why his body didn't' react.

There was a time when he'd been consumed by sex in any way, shape or form. His teen years had been full of requited lust and a few conquests. Then at college, a few more. Then finally back to Caroline and a new, more mature relationship that has eventually moved to the bedroom.

But he'd never again felt those raging, thrilling shots of pure desire he'd experienced with Serena Tsukino.

_Just teen hormones, you moron._

"Emerald Campbell called and I gave her an extension on her rent," he said.

Caroline clucked her tongue. Her brows lifted. Brown eyes regarded him with empathy. "She's using you."

"I know."

"You're not falling for her, are you?" she teased.

Darien shook his head, irritated with her for no good reason. "What the hell is it with Diamonde, anyway? He's got three kids to think about, and he doesn't care about them one bit. They're his responsibility. But he expects Emerald to carry the entire burden!"

"And you," Caroline reminded.

"He doesn't know I give her a break on the rent."

"Ha. Guys like Diamonde expect it. He's always being a loser." Caroline smoothed back a strand of hair. "No sense of responsibility."

"You got that right," Darien muttered, irritate anew that he was agreeing with her. "Diamonde's something else. If he and Emerald hadn't broken up, he'd probably have a dozen kids by now and not care for any of them."

"You're just mad because he's self-indulgent and you're careful and concerned." Caroline touched her finger to the tip of his nose, smiling like a proud mother. Darien's annoyance with her intensified but he kept it to himself.

Besides, she was infuriatingly correct. Diamonde's behaviour reminded Darien of Daniel, although Daniel's father had at least attempted to make financial reparation for his actions––or so Darien had been told. But the whole idea of indiscriminate fatherhood hit some tender part of his soul that had been hurt when he was younger and had never quite recovered.

"As I recall, you sowed a few wild oats in high school yourself that could have ended in disaster," Caroline reminded him.

"I made some mistakes, but if I'd fathered a child, believe me, I would have taken care of it."

"Hmm."

She sounded suspiciously disbelieving.

"Stacey Sanderson was not pregnant when she went back to Los Angeles," Darien growled, covering old, old ground.

"I wasn't thinking of Stacey."

"Then who were you think of?"

"There were other girls."

"Oh right."

"There were." She studied her nails.

"Give me a break. I was there. I ought to know."

"I could name one."

Darien's gut tightened. He knew where this was going and now he was really bugged. Refusing to fall into the trap, he stayed silent. Caroline, however, seemed intent on making this an issue. Her gaze was level and accusatory. "You know who I mean."

"I didn't keep a scorecard," Darien declared through his teeth. "And I never got anybody pregnant."

"Okay, okay." Caroline suddenly capitulated, lifting her hands in surrender. Maybe she was tired of the subject as he was. "Let's drop it."

Perversely, Darien now found himself wanting to jab the needle a little bit more. He was in that kind of mood.

"You're not talking about _Serena,_ are you?" Caroline didn't immediately answer, but the skin on her face drew tightly over her fine bones.

"I don't want to talk about her."

"Then why did you bring it up?" he demanded.

She glanced at him, then gazed out the window, the corners of her mouth turning down. Darien's annoyance melted. What was he doing? What were they doing to each other? "That was just––" He broke off, unable to find the words.

"Just what?" Caroline pressed softly.

"Nothing. An infatuation that lasted a few months, that's all."

"Do you every think about her?"

He shook his head. Guilt gnawed a bit. He _did_ think about her sometimes. He's certainly thought about her last night after their run-in. Memories had danced inside his head so hotly that he was almost hungover this morning, as if he's indulged in some wild, bacchanalian orgy.

"You talked to my mother, didn't you?" Darien accused gently. "She told you Serena was in town."

Caroline nodded. "It just kind of took me aback."

Darien shrugged. "It's all over and done with. Serena left just before graduation. She left me. It hurt, but for Pete's sake, Caroline, I was eighteen! That was so long ago, I barely remember."

"_I_ remember," she said softly, and there was a wealth of feeling in those words.

He gazed at her thoughtfully, uncomfortable. "Things matter too much when you're young. It wouldn't be the same now."

She half laughed. "Well, I hope things matter now!"

"You know what I mean."

Caroline was reflective. "You had a hard time getting over her, Darien."

"Yeah, I did. We had this huge fight, and she was gone. I couldn't believe it." Darien straightened his shoulders, frowning. "You know all about it."

"It's just that sometimes I think if it had just faded away, it would have been better. For me. And you." She added haltingly. "Why do you think she came to see you?"

"She said she didn't come to see me."

"Beryl said she did."

Darien's pulse jumped, but he hid his reaction, realising Caroline was feeling too insecure to understand. "Beryl can't stand Serena. She never could. God knows why. Maybe because Serena didn't live 'on the water.'"

"Don't be so hard on your mother," Caroline defended quickly, hearing the implied rebuke. Her feelings paralleled Beryl's too closely for her to take any criticism in that direction.

"Don't be so kind. Beryl can take care of herself."

Caroline fiddled with her fingernails before curling them into her palms. "Would I be out of line if I asked you not to see her again?"

"Who? Serena?"

"I know it's silly." She lifted one should helplessly.

"It is silly," Darien agreed.

"I know, but, will you humour me?"

Darien watched her closely, aware of undercurrents he'd never heretofore suspected beneath Caroline's placid exterior. "I don't even want to see her, but if I run across her, I'll probably talk to her."

"Just don't go out of your way, okay?"

"Caroline!" Darien laughed at her fears, both touched and irritated at the same time.

"Promise," she demanded, brown eyes gazing anxiously into his.

"What is this?"

"Call it left over paranoia from that last year of high school. I was so in love with you, and all you thought about was Serena Tsukino!'

Her passion surprised him. She was incredibly intense, and it was so out of character that Darien could only stare. With a feeling of unreality, he lifted his hand in surrender.

What did it matter, anyway? Serena Tsukino was a chapter from his past.

* * *

Hi there! I've decided that I will write the lemon scene myself.

In all honesty, I'm an impatient person, so waiting for offers is a bit out of my league.

Though this is a bit funny as I can't for authors to update as soon as they can, but then I'm updating slightly late. XP

Oh well.

Adios =)


	7. Rah Rah Rah

Hi! Slightly steamy in this section but I hope it'll be good.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

Although you should know by now, especially if you already know who owns Sailor Moon.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**

* * *

**

Ten-fifteen and Beachtime Coffee spilled over with people. Serena felt positively guilty about hoarding one of the few tables all to herself, but she was powerless to move. Apathy had settled over her at the chore she'd been given.

Why couldn't Darien Shields just be a bittersweet memory? That was where he belonged, between the pages of a faded photo album, occupying a tender, but minuscule, corner of her heart. He was her first love. That was all she wanted him to be!

Unfortunately, he was so much more.

Serena drew a deep breath, inhaling the scents of coffee and cinnamon, hearing the amiable chatter around her. Closing her eyes she was hit by a memory: the first time she and Darien had made love in the Shields tree house.

* * *

It was the beginning of senior year. She'd worked at Crowns during the summer and slowly, little by little, she'd drawn closer to Darien whose reason for dropping by work grew thinner and thinner until made no pretence at all that he was stopping in to see her.

This put Serena into orbit. It was unbelievable. The word on the street was that Darien Shields and Serena Tsukino were an item––_and it was true!_

First day of school. The other girls glared at her in envy and disbelief. She could read it in their faces. What's _she _got that's so great? Serena basked in the glory of it. She didn't dare tell them that apart from a few moments alone, when he'd either driven or walked her home––she'd had to get over her fear of him seeing her ramshackle house double-quick or lose on being with him altogether––they hadn't shared much of anything except that one kiss.

That all changed after the first football game. It was a hot night and Serena waited near the sweating cheerleaders for the game to end and for Darien to be all hers. She still detested football. It was a brutal sport in a league with boxing, as far as she was concerned. But she kept those thoughts firmly to herself and after a fabulous game where Darien threw seven completed passes to his receiver, Diamonde Campbell, she was ushered away from the screaming fans by Mr. Quarterback himself for a secluded drive up the beach and a make-out session that left her breathless.

"Just don't bite me again," he whispered after they first bout of frantic kissing.

Serena struggle with the gearshift knob, which stubbornly inhibited how close they could get to each other. "I'll try to restrain myself," she murmured, thrilled by his low-throated chuckle.

"I've got to get a bench seat," was his response before his mouth was crushed against her again and he twisted around so the gearshift was his problem.

Heaven. Pure heaven. That was what it was. Their trips to an isolated sport on the beach became more frequent. At first she tried to play it cool, of course. She wanted him to think she didn't care that much. It was safer that way. But in truth, her old attraction was revved up, full throttle. With every kind gesture and happy grin he rained on her, she lost herself a little more. Like an undertow sucking beneath its dangerous swirl, she felt herself pulled down under the power of Darien Shields' personality.

She told herself that he was fast; his reputation had been earned honestly. She still remembered how he's kissed her the night he'd nearly frozen to death from hypothermia. That one kiss––the one she reviewed in her head almost nightly––had told her everything. She knew his advances weren't to be trusted.

But Serena's heart was involved now, and her careful conscience was ignored. She and Darien began engaging in some heavy petting and although she told herself not to be stupid, she _wanted_ him.

Then one day in the girls' bathroom she overheard some disturbing news about Darien's feelings for her–– news she didn't want to believe.

She was inside a stall, just getting ready to leave, when she heard Susan, a friend of Caroline's, talking with several other girls, among them, one Serena liked, Raye Hino. It was a riveting conversation and Serena couldn't help eavesdropping.

"You know what he wants from her," Susan was saying, heaving a huge sigh. "I mean I love Darien to death but he certainly moves through the women, y'know? This Serena Tsukino's doomed. She's too easy."

"You really think so?" one of the listeners asked eagerly. Everyone loved to think some other girl was a slut. It made them feel superior. And better.

Serena swallowed hard and waited.

"Well, she doesn't have a curfew. She's hanging around all the time. Her dad's a drunk and the mum's a basket case. She's clinging to Darien for dear life, if you know what I mean. Personally, I feel sorry for her. He's going to use her and break her heart."

"Maybe he really likes her."

"Oh, he _does_ like her," Susan agreed earnestly. "He likes her a lot. But it won't last. That's just Darien's way. As soon as they're won––" she snapped her fingers "––he's on to the next conquest. And he tries to remain friends with them, which the worst 'cause it just gives them false hope. Take a lesson––never give your heart to Darien Shields. Remember Stacey?"

Serena leaned closer to the stall door, straining to hear. She knew all the Darien Shields stories but now that she was involved with him she wanted to hear them again, in case there was something she'd missed. Stacey was another notch in Darien's belt––a notch that Serena didn't plan to be.

Susan's voice lowed confidentially. "Stacey tried to trap him. Actually told him she was pregnant!"

"Tramp!" one of the girls breathed.

"I know, I know. But Darien's mum took care of everything. Paid her off and shipped her back to Los Angeles. I think she had an abortion."

"So, she _was _pregnant, then? It wasn't just a rumour?" This was from Raye whom Serena knew to be cautious about unsubstantial rumours. Thank God someone was!

"Well…its stands to reason, doesn't it?" Susan hedged. "Stacey didn't leave school for nothing." The other girls murmured their agreement, and Susan added, "God, she stalked him like a psycho!"

"Why would she have an abortion, then?" Raye asked. "Sound like she'd want some connection to him. She'd probably keep the baby."

"That's just what I heard," Susan sniffed, annoyed. "Maybe she wasn't pregnant, but I think she was!"

There was a shuffling of feet and backpacks, and they left in a herd. After several minutes Serena carefully let herself out of the stall. To her shock Raye was still there, lost in moody introspection as she stared at her own deep black hair and pale complexion in the mirror. Serena's eyes widened and met Raye's in the mirror.

"Oh, eavesdropping," Raye remarked without malice. "I don't believe much of what Susan says. You shouldn't either."

Embarrassed, Serena shrugged. After a moment she added, "I don't really want to be the next notch though."

"Yeah. You gotta be careful." Raye was pragmatic. Always. Serena learned that fact quickly over the following months for, although she didn't know it at the time, she and Raye, along with Mina, were destined to become good friends–– the first truly good friends Serena had ever know.

But for the moment Serena was cautious. "What would you do, if you were me?" she asked.

"About Darien?"

Serena nodded.

"Do you really like him a lot?"

"I don't know." _Yes_.

"Then you've gotta play hard to get. One thing I know about Darien Shields, one thing _everybody _knows about him––he doesn't want an easy conquest."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Right now we're just sorta hanging out together. He called me up and we do something with a bunch of his friends."

"Never alone?" Raye arched one raven eyebrow.

"Sometimes…"

Serena didn't want to talk about that. It wasn't anybody's business but hers––and Darien's. Yet, she had questions. Questions about how far to go. Were other kids doing _it_? She wondered constantly. Should she?

Every since their first kiss, Serena had dreamed of something more. Passion, desire, aching need––just think about it made her blush. When she was kissing him she felt as if they were melded together. The only two people on earth. All that mattered.

Somewhere in the last few months they'd begun to trust each other. Gradually. She was Darien Shield's girl, now, or so people liked to say––and she liked them to say it. And it wasn't all just making too, either. Darien had warmed up in a way she wouldn't have thought possible.

In time she believed he would tell her he loved her.

"You gotta be cool," was Raye's advice. "Careful. Hide your feelings a little."

"Hide them?"

"Oh, yeah. The more you show, the more he knows he's got you."

Serena absorbed that news silently, knowing she would never be able to follow through. The impenetrable wall around her feelings had crumbled, disintegrated completely. She was so in love there was hope of erecting a new wall now. When he looked at her, really looked at her, she could read his thoughts and knew he was thinking of their private moments together. No, she couldn't act like she didn't care.

"You've got it bad, don't ya?" Raye shook her head. "Well, okay. Then you need a ton of advice, and I mean a ton. Do you think he loves you?"

"What?" This was bold, intimate talk. Serena hardly knew Raye.

"Don't be shy. Do you think he loves you?"

"I––I don't know."

"Tell me about a typical 'date' with Mr. All-American."

"Well, there really haven't been that many dates. He kinda comes over to the counter at Crown's and talks to me. Then he hangs around and fiddles with the napkin dispenser and Parmesan cheese…and…"

Did this sound as stupid as she though it did? Lord, she was an idiot!

"True love," Raye observed sarcastically.

"We did go with Andrew and Rita to a movie one night," Serena said defensively.

She didn't add that Andrew and Rita had made out like crazy in the back seat to and from the movie, and Rita had shot Serena sharp, distrustful looks all evening. It had nearly ruined Serena's time with Darien. She'd been forced to merely hold his hand in the front seat, too uncomfortable to even share a kiss with the two of them going at it. As soon as she and Darien were alone, he promised her they would never go out with them again. It was a promise Serena was easily glad of.

But since that time, things had heated up between them at an alarming rate––and Serena had done nothing to stop it.

A dangerous, dangerous game. It was incredible how fast things changed. From their first few times together, when Serena's pulse ran a few beats fast, to holding hands or feeling his arm thrown carelessly over her shoulders, to soft, stolen kisses, to a brush of his hand across her hair, ostensibly to pull it away from her face except that his hand lingered, sensuously stroking, before he seemed to recall himself––from those first times, things had progressed at lightning speed. Each time his gentle hands had explored a bit further, tenderly touching while "No" ran through her mind, left unsaid, until she decided that this, too, was okay.

So, where did it end?

"Have you made love?" Raye asked curiously.

"No!"

"Just asking."

"I don't think I should," Serena said with a hard swallow.

"Not if you want to keep him," Raye agreed. "But sometimes it's hard to say no and mean it. It seems like it would be cut and dried, but it never is."

"You sound like you know what you're talking about."

Raye wrinkled her nose. "My advice is this: just don't get along with him. He's a really attractive guy and things happen. Make him commit––but that won't happen, 'cause Darien Shields doesn't commit to any girl. Go out with someone else. Keep a lock on your heart. Make him work to win you, and if he doesn't even try, you haven't lost anything because he didn't care in the first place."

"Whoa." Serena's head reeled from Raye's clinical assessment.

"I've been through a few break-ups, okay?" Raye finally admitted. "They're not fun. This is your first guy right? Pardon me if I sound blunt, but Darien Shields' a bad choice for a boyfriend. Especially a first one. He's too cute, too popular, and basically too used to have everything come easy."

"I'm not easy."

Raye gave her a look Serena wasn't sure she liked. "Everyone knows you never have to go home. It's like it doesn't matter what you are––with that much freedom, you're every guy's dream."

"I'm _not _easy!" Serena repeated.

Raye nodded, as if she'd heard it all before. Then she suddenly broke into a grin. "Guys are stupid, aren't they? They make all these judgements on us and think they can get away with anything. It's total crap!"

"Total crap," Serena agreed. She smiled back. Raye was someone who spoke her language. She hadn't known there were girls at Crescent High who could. "So…?" she asked.

Raye didn't hesitate. "Go out with another guy. Meet someone new. Toy with some jerk's emotions like they toy with ours. It rotten, I know––" she spread her hands innocently "––but it's the only way I know how to come out on top."

"I don't think I could be that mean."

"Just wait for it. Some guy'll come along who's got his own ideas about what you need and how he'll give it to you. That's the guy who deserves to be slam-dunked. But not at first. Let Darien see that he's interested in you, then do it."

"Maybe that works for you––"

"It works for everybody. I'm telling you, if you shower Darien with attention he'll lose interest like that." She snapped her fingers. "You gotta be smart."

Serena went away from that conversation with two ideas beating at her brain: one, Raye was a friend worth pursuing, and two, holding on to Darien would be next to impossible without some sort of manipulative stratagem. Although a part of her rejected the idea straight out––it went completely against the grain!––another part recognised the wisdom of her words.

It was as if some distant, primeval feminine piece of herself that had known eons ago to use wiles and deception in order to keep the upper hand in a male-dominated world, suddenly sat up and grew ears. Yes, she needed to play this game. Yes, she needed another attentive male to play his particular role.

But who? How?

The answer dropped his lunch train on her table with a clatter. "Oops," he said, grinning like a stooge. Diamonde Campbell wasn't bad looking, was a great athlete and hailed from the wealthier side of Crescent Bay's tracks, but he was a zero in the charms department and Serena suspected there was Vacant sign glowing somewhere inside his head. Still…

It was child's play––frightening, really––how little she had to do to win Diamonde's attention: a small compliment here, an attentive look there, an expression of admiration when Diamonde waxed on about how great he was on the football field. Serena found it so easy, in fact, that she tried out her tactics on other member of the male gender and soon she surrounded by admirers who stumbled over themselves for the merest sign of her approval.

In the space of a few weeks her popularity quotient rocketed to the heavens. Now, not only did the guys talk about how great looking she was, they crowed about how much she liked _them_ and how Serena Tsukino was halfway to being _their _girlfriend.

And Darien Shields glowered in silence while the Crescent High girls turned stony and bitter. Except Raye and Raye's friend, Mina. They alone understood what was going on because they though in larger terms. And they liked Serena and were willing to open the door to friendship––the best by-product of all.

It was a magical fall, made better by Darien's change of attitude. Gone was the cocky boy who charmed with the ease of long practise. In his place was a young man unsure of himself, whose discomfiture around Serena, and contained fury directed at her admirers, made him seem all the more desirable and finally, attainable, to her. It was sometime during those heady weeks that she realised she would make love to him. It was like an epiphany. He wanted her––he really wanted her––and she wanted him right back. How silly that they'd had to play this game to realise it, but better to play the game than never to understand the prize to be won.

Football season waxed on. Darien spent all his extra time––which wasn't much––around Serena. But she caught him driving by her house and although he'd quit stopping into talk to her at Crown's, on weekends he hung around outside in the Parlour's parking lot, talking with a bunch of his friends and hers.

Mina and Raye adopted Serena and would separate themselves from the pack to come and update her. It was as if they were double agents delivering top-secret coded messages.

"Notice the way he looks out of the corner of his eye at you. He's watching, all right," Mina would mumble, her head bent over Crown's menu as if she didn't already know every item by heart.

Raye sniffed. "Yeah, and he's not that good at it. He wants you to think he's talking to Rita and Caroline, but they're just there for show."

"You think so?" Serena asked, hoping it was true, needing to hear it again and again.

"Have I been wrong yet? God, I love it that you've got Darien Shields!"

"I don't have him," Serena reminded Raye.

"Oh, yeah? He's never been like this with anybody."

"We barely see one another anymore!"

"That's because the plan is working."

Mina snorted. "Besides, you can just tell he's into you by the way he acts."

"She's right. We've got a lot of body language going on." Raye shot a glance outside Crown's glass doors to where the group was standing around. Darien half turned to look, then pretended oblivion.

Mina and Raye both eyed Serena with "I told you so" grins on their faces. Serena smiled, pleased. They were right. IT was working! Except before the plan she and Darien had been closer. Now they'd taken ten steps backward. When would they make that giant leap forward?

"The guy is had," Raye assured her one night while Andrew, Darien and matt hung around joking with each other, shooting looks the girl's way.

"You really think so?" Serena gaze followed Darien's broad shoulders.

"Trust me. Have I been wrong yet?"

"No…"

But doubts remained, hanging just outside of reach. Serena still couldn't believe he loved her like she loved him. She'd blown off Diamonde Campbell long ago and pretty much ignored all the rest of the guy's attentions, but Darien had kept his distance and things weren't the same as they'd been at the beginning of school.

October melted into November and soon it was the end of the football season. The senior boy's last game neared and Serena and Darien were still at the same stalemate. Oh, they started going out together again, but there was no more hand-holding, no more soft kisses and touches, no more passionate touching.

Because she wasn't naturally manipulative, Serena suffered serious second thoughts about this plan to attract other male attention in an effort to make Darien see how desirable she was. All she wanted was to be with Darien, and she was tired of pretending that she wanted to play the field. It was a dumb game with even dumber consequences.

She was through with it.

The day of the last regular-season game she debated what to do. There were posters and an assembly and cheerleaders jumping around. Everyone was in a frenzy because this one game would determine whether the team would make it to the play-offs.

Big whoop.

Serena still believed football was a moronic sport made for Neanderthals. Except she couldn't quite shake the image of Darien in his uniform––formfitting black pants, blue and gold jersey stretched over muscles and pads. Arm cocked back for a spinning pass. Even she wasn't immune to that!

And since she wanted to be with Darien if that meant going to the game and rah-rah-rahing with the rest of the silly fans, so be it. She was tired of walking by and giving him a quick smile of interest only to flirt with some other guy. It wasn't her style. And as time passed, she deemed it wasn't even necessary.

So she went to the game and cheered the team on and was slightly ashamed of herself for falling into the fever of it. Every completed pass between Darien and Diamonde Campbell brought a scream of excitement from her throat. She was hoarse by the end of the game and was swept along with the crowd when they made a long line to welcome their conquering heroes.

Darien was nearly crushed to death by bear hugs from his own linemen. They lifted him up and down and pounded on their chests and howled like wolves, heads thrown back in victory. Darien just grinned, even when they doused his head with Gatorade and water.

Briefly, his eyes met Serena's. Briefly, a flicker of understanding passed between them. A spark of acknowledgement. A promise. Confused but excited, Serena waited on the track that surrounded the football field for all the congratulatory nonsense to end and for Darien to come to her.

It was inevitable, she told herself later, once everything was said and done. Like two planets on a collision course, there was, in the end, nothing to do but let the explosion happen. It was their fate; written in the stars. So she waited for him and he eventually came.

His entourage came with him, a steady stream of his groupies and parents and teachers and administrators all wanting to tell Darien how great he was. But Darien quickly eluded them and suddenly they talked very little. She climbed into the passenger seat of his car, let him drive to a secluded lane that abutted Shields property, made no protest as he held her hand and led her through the back gate and along a private path that approached the Shield tree house from the rear.

Silently, she followed him up the ladder to a clean, cosy room complete with a huge canvas hammock stretched from a post on one side to a metal ring screwed into the opposite wall next to real, paned window. Thick, wool plaid blankets were stacked in a pile and he grabbed one and spread it over the hammock.

Serena's heart beat fast. She watched him light an old hurricane lamp tucked onto a corner shelf and turn the wick low.

Shadows played on his face. He was all angles and serious intensity. He loomed over her, his palm caressing her face. She closed her eyes and a sigh escaped her lips. Finally, finally the moment was here. The moment was right.

When he kissed her, there was passion heating beneath his searching lips and Serena answered in kind. When he nibbled on her lower lip she was lost. When he gently bit her throat and laid tender kisses down her neck she was lost. Lost in the throes of passion. Eager to return every ounce of passion given to her, she reached behind and entangled her arms around his neck, hands in his lush hair.

His hands eventually explored further down her body while his lips meshed with hers. He gently but swiftly undid her coat, her blouse, her skirt… She lifted her arms to help him, and then she felt his fingers on her bra, softly, tentatively skimmed over her breast. Igniting an already burning fire in Serena. In return, she hurriedly shed Darien of his uniform and stared at his body, sleek muscles from football practice, shadows caressing them by the lamp. Her fingers followed their example and traced his shoulders, chest, back.

Darien moaned with her touch, gentle but exquisite torture. He crushed his lips to hers and demanded her mouth's full attention. His hands however, found another trail down her body, one hand massaged her breast and Serena had to break free to groan her pleasure and restock her supply of air. His other hand trailed lower still and lightly––oh so lightly––reached her panties. But no, instead he reached around and gripped Serena's behind in a firm grip and pulled her along his hardening length.

Both groaned at the sensations overcoming them. Replacing their control.

Looking back, she marvelled at how quickly things escalated, how quickly they'd fallen into a tangled heap on the softly swaying hammock. There'd been no laughter, just urgency. Urgent hands. Urgent mouths. Urgent bodies.

Their lovemaking had been quick but glorious, her brief moment of pain lost beneath the wonder of it all. She could still see the burnished light moving on his shoulders, the muscles working so smoothing they appeared to be oiled, the curve of his hip, the power of his thighs. She could feel his hardness, his hands exploring her anxiously, his body pumping rhythmically. His groans of ecstasy were burned into her memory. And the taste of him––goodness! His slightly salty flesh and sweet tongue were a delight she'd never again experience.

* * *

Now, goose bumps broke out on her flesh at the memory. Lips trembling, she took another gulp of vanilla mocha, heat staining her cheeks. No wonder she never reflected. Not only was it painful, it was _embarrassing!_ How long had it been since she'd really thought about Darien like this? Had she ever?

Shaking her head in wonder, Serena blinked rapidly stunned to realise that she hadn't let herself think about Darien Shields, the maestro of lovemaking, since she'd run away from Crescent Bay. In all these years she'd never examined the reasons she and he collided and crashed with the force of two armies. She'd followed on her pain, her anger, and her responsibility, but _not once_ had she really thought through those passionate moments in Darien's strong arms.

"Holey moley," she muttered now, aware of her rapidly beating heart and uneven breathing. The man still had way too much power over her. And he didn't even know it!

If she were smart, she would remember that her introduction to lovemaking had merely been a set up by the master of feminine conquests. Darien had clearly hung that hammock for one reason and one reason only. And if she was smarter yet, she would remember that couldn't have been his first guest there. She knew the names of his other women, for Pete's sake. She'd known even then. But had she thought about that while Darien pressed her willing flesh beneath his weight?

No. On that magical night her conscience slumbered and love blinded her. Blinded her and turned her deaf, as well. But not mute. Oh, no…she couldn't be that lucky! No. Instead, Serena Tsukino spent those hours whispering over and over again how much she loved him, aware that he wasn't repeating the pledge but unwilling to believe it was because he only wanted to score like he had all evening on the football field.

Rah, rah, rah.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Serena fought back a tide of resentment. Sure, it was his fault, but it was hers, too. He was a bastard but she's been about as dumb as she could be. Raye had warned her; she'd warned herself. But no, no, no. Her own swelled head had gotten in her way! For a few weeks she'd actually believed Darien Shield loved her. Mr. Man-About-Town himself was in love with Serena Tsukino!

And then what happened––after that night of wonder, love and passion? Then what happened? Why, Darien Shields cooled right off, that was what he did.

He said adios and good riddance. And Serena Tsukino, silly little fool that she was, begged him to take her back.

Humiliation. Lord, she could scarcely look on those retched days following their lovemaking anymore than she could remember the physical act itself. Wounded, sick at heart, full of self-loathing and naked pain, she spun headlong into Diamonde's waiting arms.

And Darien punched Diamonde out. After school. The night of the first play-off game. Diamonde punched back and they were both ejected from the team, effectively ending Crescent High's chances of winning. The result was a slaughter while rained poured down on the depressed Crescent Bay fans who watched their broken team, struggling miserably and futilely against damning odds.

Everyone blamed Serena. She blamed herself. Except some part of her rejoiced. Darien must love her, mustn't he? She reasoned. He'd broken Diamonde's nose for her. He's gotten himself thrown off the team for her. That meant something, didn't it? Well, didn't it?

Yeah. It meant Darien wouldn't speak to her and it was only Diamonde who still wanted to see her. Not Darien. Never Darien. And although Serena ignored Diamonde and did her best to show Darien that she still loved him––to the point of employing Raye and Mina to try and plead her case, to the point of trying to plead her case with Andrew and Matt herself–– she only succeeded in driving him further away. She drove him to Caroline. To his own kind. To other people who lived "on the water" and away from riff-raff like Serena Tsukino.

And that was the way the rest of the year went––except for Valentine's day, which she wasn't going to think about because it didn't matter anymore and it was too depressing anyway––until one night in late May when the rhododendrons were in bloom in a rainbow of pink and blood red and lavender. The air was warm and smelled of romance and Darien, for reasons she never fully understood, was waiting for her when she got off work at Crown's.

* * *

They stared at each other nakedly and something broke wide open. When he dragged her into his arms and kissed her through her tears it was Serena whose heart and body betrayed her desire to rekindle their passion.

There was only one place on each of their minds: the tree house.

In the heart of their lovemaking, bathed by the warm light of the oil lamp, wrapped in each other's embrace, Serena forgot all her warnings to herself and let her heart speak.

"I love you," she moaned. "Don't leave me again."

"Serena…" he muttered, kissing her fervently. "What are you doing to me?"

"Don't say anything. Please don't say anything…"

They made love as if they were starving for each other––his body pressed urgently to hers, he own writhing with need, loneliness and love. His mouth was hot with possession and her limbs melted beneath him.

* * *

She should have demanded an answering vow of love and commitment. She should have been more careful. She should not have mistaken the ragged desire in his voice for something more.

Now, years later, Serena drew a shuddering breath and pushed her empty cup aside. She covered her face with her hands, then raked her fingers through her hair, tugging on the ends to feel the pain, as if she needed to be reminded. Her mouth twisted in irony. How strange that it was she who'd ended up leaving him.

Because of that last night together.

The night their daughter Rini was conceived.

* * *

Don't worry, the confrontation will come soon enough.

Most likely in the chappie after next ok?

Next chapter; you meet Rini!

.

Please review! How do you think it went?

Was the lemony part ok? I'm honestly too embarrassed to ask my parents, let alone my brother. So I'm asking you guys on your thoughts!

The next chappie should be out at the usual time, give or take one or two days. Oh my god, school starts next week!

Hopefully, updates can be assured for.

Ciao!


	8. Surprise Surprise

Hi! At long last you meet Rini! Don't be disappointed if it doesn't go the way you thought it might go. So on with the story!

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

Again and again I might add...

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**

* * *

**

"Would you like anything else?"

The waitress gazed at Serena and smiled, her eyebrows lifting in silent query.

"No, thanks. I'm fine."

Wondering if that was Beachtime Coffee's polite way of saying "Hit the road, we need the table," Serena made a show of picking up her purse and getting ready to leave. Then she realised there were more tables empty now, and with a weariness born of anxiety, she sank back down.

Rini, Rini, Rini…

Here it was. The one issue she'd never resolved. Rini. Her daughter. Hers and Darien's. The child she'd given up for adoption and who now wanted to know _both_ her parents.

Feeling older than she should, Serena reached into her purse and pulled out the photograph she'd received eight days earlier. The girl in the picture wore a yellow and red open jacket and a red ruffled skirt. Her strawberry blonde hair tied up in two pigtails on her head. Her blue eyes stared straight ahead, unforgiving. She had Serena's eyes but she'd inherited Dairen's well defined jaw. She'd shifted her weight to one hip and at thirteen, she had a mind of her own and the epitome of disillusioned youth.

She reminded Serena so much of Darien Shields her throat hurt. Especially now, when his attitude toward her was so angry and distant. Luna Kentwell. _Rini_. Their daughter. The cool little rebel who'd dropped into Serena's life unexpectedly, having used a private investigator to search her out, and then had boldly demanded that she get to meet her father.

Apocalypse. The end of the world. Serena's shock, joy and heart-stopping thrill at meeting her own child were smashed by Rini's first cold words.

* * *

"So, you're her," she's said in a peculiarly flat voice, as if she'd scrubbed all emotion from it––which she probably had. "You're prettier than I expected. Younger, too." When Serena saw her standing beneath a flooding rain on her front porch, a black knit hat covering the top of her head, her pigtails dripping water, her mouth flat and unhappy. Serena's first thought was: Whose miserable child is this? Her next: Holy God, she's _Darien's!_

"What…what…" Serena stammered.

"Bet you hoped you'd never see me, huh?" A sardonic flick of a pair of unusually sensual lips. Blankly, Serena recognised a trait of her own. _Her child, too!_

"Don't worry, I won't stay long. I just wanted to meet you face-to-face."

Distracted and shocked, Serena had stared in disbelief, too pole axed to do more than gape in wonder at the daughter she'd born. Rini was a far cry from the sweet bundle of love Serena had envision all these years, but she was still so incredibly beautiful. When Serena's phone began to ring persistently, she didn't even hear it.

But Rini did. "That's probably my mum and dad," she announced blithely. "Artemis and Luna Kentwell. I'm Rini, by the way. And you're Serena, aren't you?" As Serena's knees trembled wildly, Rini added sensibly, "Better get the phone. They don't know where I am."

And that was Serena's introduction to her and Darien's love child.

Now, settling down the photograph and smoothing it with slightly unsteady fingers, Serena reminded herself that she was here on a mission. Rini had crashed into her life, and her well-meaning adoptive parents, the Kentwells, seemed to be almost as undone about it as Serena. Clearly they'd fought their daughter's demands to meet her birth mother; just as clearly, they'd lost the battle. Later, when they came to Serena's apartment, they eyed her with distrust and fear and a bit of empathy because Rini was a handful, to say the least.

But before their arrival Rini had already made an indelible impression her mother. She'd stepped into Serena's life as if it were her right, which in a way, it was. But there was no cautiousness in Rini, no need to tentatively pick her way through the minefield of emotions her sudden appearance had wrought on both the Kentwells and Serena. She simply didn't give a damn.

A bit of Beryl Shields there, too, Serena thought with faint humour.

"You had to give me up because you were too young and he wouldn't marry you," Rini said matter-of-factly as she entered Serena's apartment and dropped her duffel bag on the floor. "Isn't that right?"

"I…was too young," Serena had answered in a voice so breathy she couldn't recognise it as her own. Her head swam. _He wouldn't marry you_. That was true, too.

"It's okay." Rini looked around Serena's apartment, assessing. Serena knew it wasn't "okay," but what was there, really, to say? Besides, her underpinnings had been knocked from beneath her and she couldn't think.

"Do you have a picture of him?"

"Of…your father?" Serena choked out.

"Yeah."

"I don't think so…"

Rini's blue eyes stared. "Not one picture?"

Her youth almost broke Serena's heart. Beneath all the trappings was a small girl who wanted to believe that Serena's Darien's romance was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, something to be treasured and remembered and haunted by. Well, Serena was certainly haunted, but not in the way Rini hoped.

"I…have a yearbook," Serena offered, wondering frantically where she'd put it. She hadn't graduated with her class but she'd already paid the fees at the beginning of her senior year and her mother, in a rare moment of independence, had gone down to Crescent High, picked it up and shipped it to Serena.

Serena had received the book with mixed emotions, running her fingers over the gilt-edged blue cover, afraid to turn the first page. She'd managed eventually to peruse it from cover to cover, but then she'd buried the book under boxes and boxes, stuffed away in come cobweb-gathering corner because she couldn't bear all those pictures of Darien Shield.

"Could I see?" Rini asked when Serena remained rooted to the spot.

For the next hour and a half Serena dug around but to no avail. Her nerves were shot and with Rini hovering around, waiting expectantly, her concentration was broken so badly she wanted to huddle into a corner and cry. The Kentwells arrived and the situation intensified, growing more uncomfortable.

"I'll keep looking," Serena told Rini hoarsely. "How long will you be in Atlanta?"

"Just 'til tomorrow," Artemis Kentwell said quickly.

Luna Kentwell added, "We're sorry we didn't call and warn you. The investigator thought maybe we should, but Rini…Well, she was anxious."

Serena read that to mean Rini had taken matters into her own hands before her adoptive parents could intervene. Serena smiled wanly. She shook their hands and wished she knew what to say. But words escaped her.

After that they all stood outside Serena's apartment for a while, no one knowing what to do. Small talk prevailed. Serena explained that she was part owner of Lita's Thunder and Lightning Restaurant and Rini bluntly announced she would come visit her the next day before she left. The Kentwells wrung their hands and didn't argue. Serena could only nod, exhausted. She watched them drive away in their white rental car, then headed straight for the liquor cabinet, which consisted of several airplane-size bottles of vodka, mixed herself a tasty concoction of vodka and water and drained it so fast it brought tears to her eyes.

It didn't help.

The next day she appeared at work looking gray and ill. Lita, who was deep into creating one of her delicious soups of the day, looked up from deftly chopping onions and gasped in alarm. "My God, girl! What happened to you?"

"It's a long story." One Serena had never told.

Lita, was one metre and seventy centimetres tall and whose passion for cooking and her restaurant made Thunder and Lightning one of the most successful one in the country. She placed her knife on the table, came over and hugged and kissed Serena on the cheek. She then went back to her chopping while Serena stood in the centre of the kitchens and cried, silent tears rolling unchecked down her cheeks to splash on the red tile floor.

She told Lita the story.

Lita, herself, was also a mother of a fourteen-year-old son, Jake, with her high school boyfriend Nathan Stephens. They were a classic example of high school love which made Serena's heart ache even more. They––especially Lita––were very verbal about what a pain the neck Jake could be, although both of them loved the "little devil" dearly and would do anything for him. Lita's husband, Nathan worked in the restaurant as well, while his wife worked as a chef, he worked part time as chef and manager. When Serena moved to Atlanta, she made great friends with Lita in college and eventually her beau Nathan. She and Lita and Nathan eventually forged a partnership together. Even though they both worked in the restaurant, they still made Serena half owner while the couple owned the other half, she would do most of the accounting and managing while they did the rest.

Upon hearing that Serena possessed a daughter the same age, they gazed at their friend sympathy.

"I know how you're feeling," Lita said. "But you gotta roll with the punches. That's what parenting is, when they're this age."

"But I'm not really a parent."

"Honey, she came to you." Nathan added, wiping his hands on a towel and walked over to Serena and enveloped her in his arms, offering much needed support. "You're a parent now. It's outta the closest and in your face. Don't think it isn't."

Serena shuddered from head to toe. "I always dreamed of this. I've thought about her every day, ten times a day. I've wanted her so much. But now…"

"You're in shock. It's natural." Nathan gave her one last squeeze and released her to return cooking. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know! She's coming by the restaurant today, and I'm so torn. I want to see her. God, you don't know how much! But she scares me. I feel so––inadequate."

"Ah, honey." Lita abandoned her vegetables and enfolded Serena in her arms; much like Nathan did moments ago. With effort Serena pulled herself together and prepared for her next meeting with Rini, but as soon as her daughter breezed through the door, panic seized her again. If possible, Rini seemed more direct, and yes, more antagonistic, than she had been the day before.

"Did you find that picture?" Rini demanded before she even reached the kitchens.

Serena leaving the kitchens walked over to a table and offered her a seat. While Rini sat down, keeping contact with Serena's eyes, she took a deep breath before seating herself. "I'm still looking."

"You don't have it, do you,' she stated flatly.

"I just don't know where it is."

"Is that true?" Rini's blue eyes searched Serena's so thoroughly, Serena felt her very soul explored. "You didn't really want any reminders, did you?" she added with terrible adult understanding.

"It wasn't the best time of my life," Serena admitted in a small voice.

_Liar! It was the very best time!_

"I want to meet him," Rini announced, shattering what was left of Serena's precarious world.

"So you're Rini," Lita interjected at that moment, placing a hand on one of Serena's trembling arms. "I'm Lita, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Rini said, obviously bored. She had more important matters at hand. Lita didn't care, she went on to discuss how she had a son around the same age as her and how maybe they could meet together sometime…she rolled on. The conversation was very much one sided.

It seemed to swirl over Serena's head like dark, roiling clouds, full of doom. She was powerless to do anything but sit there and let it happen. Meet Darien? My, God! He didn't know. He _didn't_ _know_.

Eventually Rini's monosyllabic responses to Lita's well-intentioned probing halted the conversation altogether. Rini gazed at Serena, waiting. Serena had neither the heart nor the courage to tell her that her father did not know she existed. It wasn't fair to Rini, and it wasn't fair to Darien. But at the time, Serena had been too young and too scared to do anything but bend to Beryl Shield's wishes.

Except she hadn't let Beryl's mother talk her into an abortion.

"I've got to talk to him first," Serena heard herself say from a long, long distance away. She felt as if she were in a tunnel and Rini stood at the far end. "I'll tell him you want to see him, and I'll let him contact you."

Rini pitched a fit. She wasn't used to being thwarted. She wanted to know who her father was and where he lived, and she wanted Serena to tell her right now! But there was no way to tell her, though Serena might have been tempted. She let Rini spend her adolescent rage and was almost glad she still had this little bit of power and control left. She couldn't believe it when she'd finally persuaded Rini to wait. Rini was the best and worst of her and Darien; that was clear. And Serena needed all her wits to keep this emotional ember from exploding like a volcano.

* * *

So, here she was Crescent Bay, her first meeting with Darien a complete disaster. She'd run like a frightened bunny and had even let Beryl's frigid fury upset her a little. Just a little. The Shields name and power didn't affect her nearly as much now as it had when she was a teenager.

But Darien affected her. There was no denying that. The Kentwells sent Serena a picture of Rini within the week. With a thank-you prayer to the gods of good fortune, Serena recognised how lucky she was that Rini had been delivered to such caring, fair people. Although reluctant, at first, they were embracing this new relationship with their daughter's birth mother, and for that Serena would be ever-thankful.

But Darien…?

Like the older man seated several tables ahead of her, Serena caught herself staring at the clock. Eleven o'clock. The morning was nearly gone. It was time to get a move on. Time to face Darien with the truth.

As Serena rose from the table, the preppy couple stood at the same time. Serena gasped in recognition. It was Mina and Darien's old buddy, Matt Dalton!

As if her shock stare penetrated their own cocoon of self-interest, they both looked over at her as one. Mina's face broke into a delighted grin. "Serena!"

Serena lifted a hand. "Mina."

Matt merely gave her a funny smile, as if he didn't know what to feel or how to act.

"What are you doing here? Oh, gosh, it's been so long! Are you visiting or back to stay?"

"Visiting," Serena assured her.

"Oh, wow." Mina pressed her hands to her cheeks, eyes bright with delight."Oh, this is great. You know Ray lives New York now. Married some guy named Jakob Miller. Two kids. An English sheepdog. Can you believe it? The man-hater? And, and, you know Matt, of course. We're getting married on Valentine's Day! You've got to come!"

_Valentine's Day. Rini's Birthday._

Serena was speechless for a dozen reasons. Mina sank down beside Serena and tossed her feet on an adjoining chair. Her blonde hair had lightened like Serena's but not much. There were streaks of lighter yellow. It made her model like appearance even more striking.

"How _are_ you?" she demanded seriously. "Man, when you left school before the end of the senior year we were all so worried. And then no word! We were afraid that.."

Serena swallowed. _Afraid that I might be pregnant?_

Mina, who had never been coy with her thoughts, proved to have changed little in the intervening years. "We were afraid your dad was somehow responsible." She paused. "You know. Because of his drinking."

Serena didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So her sudden disappearance had been given a different cause. Was that better? She didn't know, especially since the truth of her indiscretion was soon to be public knowledge.

"Hey, Mina, we gotta get going," Matt murmured. He looked uncomfortable as he undoubtedly felt.

Mina frowned. "I thought we were meeting here. He's the one who's late."

"He?" Serena asked automatically.

"Darien. He's supposed to show up so we can nail him on his duties as best man. The guy's a workaholic. No fun. Hard to believe, isn't it? He's turned into a real pain the in the butt. I think its Caroline's influence."

"Mina." Matt looked pained.

"You think so, too," she reminded, scooting out another chair with one foot. He took it reluctantly. Serena began to wish fervently that she hadn't run into them, no matter how glad she was to find a friend. Those memories of her and Darien weren't dead for Matt, either, apparently, although Mina seemed to be having no problem with the past.

"They dated forever," Mina revealed. "He's finally asked her to marry him and now the engagement's lasted eons. Just kinda kick him in the butt I suggested they make it a double wedding. Hey, Valentine's Day's romantic, right? Caroline went for the idea and even though she's not my favourite person, she's tolerable." Mina sniffed. "I wouldn't say the same of Darien!"

"Dairen's okay," Matt interjected.

"He got old before his time."

Old? His image was indelibly etched on Serena's mind, and last night's encounter hadn't changed it. In fact, her impression was how little he changed. She could still feel his fingers on her arm.

"He ducked the whole issue. Too busy. Not the right time. Blah, blah, blah. I don't think he really loves her."

"Mina!" Matt rolled his eyes.

"Hey." She lifted her hands, then dropped them in her lap. Conversation over.

For Serena, though, the knowledge that Darien might appear at any moment galvanised her into action. She didn't want to confront him here, among reminders of the past. "I've got a bunch of stuff to do while I'm here, so I'd better get doing it."

"Where're you staying?" Serena named the motel, and Mina said, "Call me." She scratched out her number on a paper napkin. "I want to catch up."

"I'll do it," Serena promised.

"Don't lie to me." Her old friend grinned.

"I'll _do_ it."

"Come to the wedding," Mina urged. "It's only a couple of weeks away."

"If I'm still in town," she demurred.

"Oh, Serena, make a point. Please. I want you to come. Raye's going to be there!"

"I…I'll try."

Serena's back was to the door while she slung her purse over her shoulder. A waft of cool air silently announced another visitor. Scared to look, she nevertheless darted a glance behind her but there was no need. _Darien, _she thought with a sinking heart, her gaze clashing with his.

"Speak of the devil," Mina declared in mock anger. "You're late. And you almost missed an old friend. You remember Serena Tsukino, don't you Dairen?"

* * *

Ohhh bum bum bum!

Imagine the tension, the awkwardness, the reactions!

Now you have to wait to next week to find out what happens.

Till then, you could review and tell me what you reckon. Your thoughts on Rini herself. Seems very self-assured doesn't she?

So, Review!

Xin Nian Hao! (Happy New Year!)

Zai Jian! (Good Bye!)


	9. Masked Faces

Hi, I'm sorry for the day lateness, but I'm going to update around every Tuesday rather than Monday, cause I have tutoring on Mondays.

Don't worry though, I will make sure there are regular updates.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**

* * *

**

It had been a bitch of a morning after Caroline's departure. Tenants from his rental properties called on his generous treatment of Emerald Campbell and wanted the same. Then the chef at the Shields' restaurant, Crawfish Delish, quit because of a fight he'd had with one of the busboys, a local tough who'd been hired by the manager in a weak moment and who'd let it be known that all chefs were gay and stupid. The manager fired him but not before Merrick, who was really little more than a glorified cook but who could make magic with seafood, stalked out of the restaurant and into his Renault and headed straight for the Tank House, a local watering hole. Merrick was always looking for an excuse to drink, and Darien had gone to the Tank House to try and reason with him. Merrick could not only drink, he could drink fast, and Dairen ended up driving him home to the Windsurf, another Shields apartment building, so he could sleep it off. Darien had then returned to Crawfish Delish and told the stressed assistant cook the bad news: lunch and dinner were his.

Thank God it wasn't high season.

Darien had then been tempted to take up residence on Merrick's stool at the Tank House. Half the time he felt like a baby sitter; the other half, a psychologist. Neither occupation was where he'd ever hoped to be.

_What's best for you…_

And then he remembered that he had to meet Mina and Matt at Beachtime Coffee and talk wedding.

It had about ruined his day.

But now, here, face-to-face with Serena, he realised the worst of the day had yet to happen. His promise to Caroline hung over his head, but it wasn't foremost on his mind. No, what he was feeling was more frustration and annoyance and a certain amount of flat-out anger. What the hell was she doing here, anyway? She'd run out of town nearly fourteen years ago, and he didn't feel one iota of pleasure that she'd returned.

Oh, sure, she still looked great. Better, in fact, in some ways. Truth to tell, his first impression was how deep the sky blue of her irises appeared and how those eyes swam with secrets. Her hair was lustrous, waist length and shining with good health. Her skin as smooth as satin, pale and nearly poreless––just like in high school. Only an overall maturity––and sadness? ––that seemed to have infected her personality.

Still, passion simmered beneath her cool expression. He could still feel it like a pulse. And she's certainly been sharp and prickly with him last night. That was the Serena he remembered. The one with the wicked tongue.

Except she'd lost that particular trait over the time they'd dated. He couldn't recall getting the rough side of her tongue at all, in fact, until that last fight they'd had the night before she'd left town. Amazing. He could remember every word and expression from that argument and still he didn't understand.

One year of his life he'd given to her. Oh, not as a gift, really; as part of his youth that he couldn't help himself from granting. He hadn't loved her, but he'd certainly felt passionate about her. She'd consumed him for that year. Had been a part of his days and nights. As important to him as air and water.

Yet, he couldn't let her know. He'd been smart enough to recognise those pitfalls without actually tripping into them. Giving her that much power would have been like ripping out his soul and handing it over to a force as mercurial and inconstant as the wind. Serena Tsukino had whispered words of love and need and he'd responded with silence and a certain amount of scepticism. Other girls had sworn their love, but love was sometimes a cover-up for a person's own hidden agenda. People fell in and out of love all the time. It was an overused four-letter word.

He'd never, never been in love.

So, why was his heart thundering like a racehorse? Why did he feel so intensely conscious of the heat of the room and the noises of laughter and conversation, the smell of Serena's perfume, sweet as sugar––or was that just another odour of the coffeehouse?

He had the strangest desire to reach out and grab her by the hair and haul her to him, so that he could stare into the deepest recesses of her eyes and guess her secrets. _I want to know, _he thought desperately._ Why? Why? Why did you leave me?_

Instead, he heard his own voice say coldly, "I remember Serena. She's hard to forget."

The blush that raced across her pale cheeks surprised him. He hadn't expected her to be sensitive. She'd reached epic proportions as an ogre in his mind, he realised.

"It's good to see you, too, Darien," she answered with an identical coolness.

Mina leaped into the moment. "Oh, my gosh, maybe it isn't _Tsukino_ anymore! Serena, I forgot to ask. Are you married? Holy cow, you probably hitched up with a doctor and have six children and two vacation homes and an English sheepdog yourself!"

Darien's stomach clenched. It took every ounce of control he possessed not to react, but he kept his gaze trained on her lovely face and witnessed the shadow of emotion that crossed her features. _No husband_. But something, he thought.

"Well?" Mina asked.

"Not married." Her voice was tight.

"How about children?"

She actually flinched and Matt moaned, "Mina!" in utter embarrassment as he often did. Darien wondered how they would every stay married; their personalities were exact opposites.

"What?" Mina demanded. "She could have children from a previous marriage, couldn't she?" she turned to Serena. "Right?"

"No previous marriage, either," Serena muttered, clutching purse. She drew a shaky breath and said, "I'd better get going. I've got a lot to do."

With that she scurried for the door, glancing back, her lips parting as if she had something more to say. Darien realised she was looking at him, and he lifted his brows, aware she was struggling.

"What?" he asked.

"I…"

Incredulously, he though she was going to say, _I love you_. He could practically reach down her throat and grab out the words. Instead she closed her mouth and regarded him with an expression of anguish and fury.

_What the hell is going on?_ He wondered.

* * *

Serena could do nothing but stare. Words wouldn't pass her lips, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't tell him right there, right now. Maybe she couldn't tell him at all!

Damn him, she though half hysterically. He looked as virile and beautiful as she remembered from the last past––and as tough and unforgiving, she knew from last night's encounter. In that spilt second when his blue eyes met hers, Serena recognised the turmoil in her breast for what it was: love. A love that would not die no matter how impossible and terrible it made her life. A love that defied reason and common sense. A love she wished she could kill, for it had brought her nothing but heartache and misery

She pulled her gaze from his. He was too powerful. Too male. She could smell his musky rose cologne and when he moved, his black leather jacket hugged his frame appealingly. She couldn't think. Her chest felt too tight inside her skin.

_How about children?_ Mina had asked.

_Just one…Just Darien's…_

"Serena, for Pete's sake, you can't leave yet." Mina waved at her to sit back down. "We don't know anything about you. No children, no husband…Is there a 'significant other'?"

"Mina!" Matt clearly was forever embarrassed by his future wife, but there was an element of love in the way he looked at her, too. Enough love to let him see the humour of her ways, Serena realised. What would it be like to have that kind of relationship? That kind of trust?

"I'm single and intend to remain that way," Serena told her. "I'm glad for you and Matt. I'll try to make the wedding, but really, I've got to go."

Darien seemed impervious to the conversation. His brows were drawn together, his jaw tense. Serena wondered what he was thinking. He'd always been so incredibly insightful except in one area––her.

"I saw Andrew Hansford last night," she added as she pushed open the door.

"At Crown's?" Mina asked, interested.

Serena nodded.

"Looks the same, doesn't it? Remember when were used to hang out there? Hard to believe so much time has passed. Grab a seat, Darien," she finished, waving him to another unoccupied wooden chair.

"I can't stay. I just dropped by because I knew you were waiting for me." The timbre of his voice did strange things to Serena's equilibrium. She couldn't believe herself! So many years and yet she still reacted like a lovesick adolescent! It was unreal and she was furious with herself.

"Are you nuts? You've _got_ to stay. This is my wedding, for Pete's sake!"

"I'll get things straight with Darien," Matt interrupted. "Later," he said to his friend.

Serena practically bolted from the coffee shop, unwilling to have Darien so close on her heels. This was not the time. She wasn't ready.

On the street, rain fell in an unrelenting January drizzle, swept sideways by sudden rushes of wind off the ocean. Serena hesitated a moment, angry with herself. The hell it wasn't the time! What was she waiting for? A voice from heaven indicating her path? Here was a golden opportunity––away from Beryl Shields, no less––and once again, all she could do was run.

Closing her eyes, she willed up courage from some deep well inside her soul. She'd come to tell him about Rini. She had no choice. For her daughter––and for herself, she realised dimly––she needed this secret revealed. It's only the first day. You've got time. Give yourself an opportunity to adjust. You've had a lot of shocks. Be kind to yourself.

Suddenly he was just behind her right shoulder. Serena faced the parking lot, afraid to look at him. Belatedly, she realised she was standing right next to his black Jeep. He had to think she was waiting for him.

"So, why did you stop by the house last night?" he asked, his breath tickling the nape of her neck.

He'd though that one over, she realised. She remembered that about him, too; his intensely analytical mind. He dissected everything, searching for its true meaning. She'd been afraid he would discern the secret of her pregnancy before she got away from him. Beryl had instead.

She shrugged. "Just reacquainting myself with old friend."

"Try again," he muttered.

She was afraid to move. He was so close. Close enough to lean back and touch. "How like you to distrust me," she answered with forced bitterness. "I guess it's true what they say––something's never change."

"I never distrusted you."

"Oh, yes, you did."

"You mean, after you slept with Diamonde Campbell?"

"I didn't sleep with him, and you know it!"

"I only know what you told me. And damn near everything out of your mouth was a lie."

He said it without heat. Matter-of-factly. As if it were proved truth and she should agree with him completely.

Serena was flabbergasted. Steeling herself, she twisted half-around, meeting those blue eyes and hostile face with a fury she hadn't known she possessed. They studied each other like the angry foes they were.

"How many years has it been, Darien?" she demanded. "Over a decade. Closing in on fifteen. And the first thing that we have to talk about is whether I slept with Diamonde Campbell when I was a senior in _high school?_"

He had the grace to look slightly ashamed, but it didn't alter the belligerent slant of his jaw, or his battle-tense stance.

"I didn't lie," she told him flatly.

"You lied about Caroline."

A barb of truth hit home. She hadn't actually lied about Caroline Newsmith, but she's definitely done her part to let others know Caroline wasn't the sweetest thing everyone thought. "I didn't like her very much," Serena admitted. "She didn't like me, either. We were always in a cold war over you."

That stopped him. His lips parted, as if he were about to refute her, but how could he? She and Caroline had been Dairen's chosen women. Only Caroline had been the dark-haired angel and Serena the blond seductress. Or at least that was how Caroline told the story, and in the end, Caroline's was the only tale to tell.

"Well, it doesn't matter now," he said, attempting to end the conversation. But now, perversely, Serena wanted to keep going.

"Oh, I don't know. There're a lot of unresolved things in our past, don't you think?"

"Just high school stuff."

Serena managed a taut smile. Her high school experiences had set the stage for the last unhappy fourteen years. She'd been acting by rote, just going through the motions. The events of her youth had stripped the rest of her life of colour and meaning.

Just high school stuff, indeed.

"I'm sure you heard Caroline and I are engaged," he said, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "It took us long enough."

"Mina told me." She could feel a lead weight in her stomach.

He nodded.

"But you didn't want to get married on Valentine's Day."

"Valentine's Day," he repeated, staring over her head to some distant point she couldn't see. Her heart pounded heavily. She knew he was thinking of that last Valentine's Day in their senior year, when she'd flirted so dismally with Diamonde, hoping to hold on to the last remnant of Darien's affection. She'd loved him so desperately but he hadn't cared for her the same way. And everything had backfired.

* * *

"You're really a slut," Susan had whispered out of the side of her mouth, mean and hard, as Serena walked out of school one disastrous afternoon. "Everyone knows you're doing it with Diamonde just to get Darien back. Well, Darien hates you. He had you and now Diamonde has, too!"

"It's not true." Serena's voice had been a weak breath.

Susan's stare raked Serena's pale, miserable face. "Everyone knows."

Sarcasm was Serena's armour but that time it had failed her. She'd had no defence. Stumbling down the front steps of the school, she'd fought back gasps of anguish. When Diamonde had called her that night to ask her to dinner the following week on Valentine's Day, she'd huddled beneath her covers and cried herself to sleep.

_What happened?_ She'd asked herself over and over again in the weeks following their night in the tree house. She'd given herself to Darien because she loved him and almost as soon as the deed was done, his ardour had cooled. Was he really that shallow and uncaring? She wouldn't believe it. But regardless, she knew she'd made a terrible mistake. She had no desire or intention of making the same one with Diamonde. She still loved Darien so much.

So she'd limped through until Valentine's Day, accepting Diamonde's invitation. But as soon as she and Diamonde arrived at one of Crescent Bay's nicer restaurants, lo and behold, Darien and Caroline were two tables over. Because she had to, Serena brightened, acting as if she were having the time of her life, but her performance was lost on Darien. He paid no attention. All he could seen was Caroline.

Or so Serena had thought.

Later that night, sunk in misery, she'd finally found the courage to call up Darien. To her surprise he was home. She'd expected him to still be out with Caroline, his other half, but he'd already returned and was cautiously willing to talk to her. She asked if they could see each other and he drove to her home, picked her up and they went to Crown Fruit Parlour and ate a late-night heart shaped pizza together.

It wasn't exactly a reunion but it was a coming together that gave Serena hope. He hadn't like seeing her with Diamonde; he didn't say the words but his feelings were clear.

When he dropped her home that night she turned her face toward his, heart thumping hard, praying that he would kiss her. But he didn't so much as look her way. She could still remember his harsh profile and clenched hands around the wheel. Whatever he might feel, he refused to succumb, and Serena left more depressed than ever. If she should have learned anything from that night, it was that Darien Shields didn't care about her.

But her miserable, loyal heart refused to it.

* * *

Now, with his stern visage directly in front of her and so much of the past hanging between them, she said the words she should have uttered long ago. "I was poor white trash to you, so you believed every ugly rumour about me. I loved you and gave you my body, but you used me. If I'd been Caroline Newsmith, you might have loved me back, but who could love somebody as socially worthless as Serena Tsukino? Someone who didn't 'live on the water'? Certainly not a Shields."

Darien's eyes were riveted on her mouth, as if he couldn't believe the words issuing from her lips. When he glanced up again, his eyes simmered with unnamed emotions. In contrast to Serena's visible resentment in her eyes. "It was a lot more complicated than that," he stated flatly.

"At least you don't deny it," Serena said surprised. "I'm not sure how to feel about that."

"I knew we weren't right for each other for a lot of reasons I couldn't have explained back then. I don't think I can explain it now, either. I know I don't want to," he added as an afterthought.

"You sound just like a Shields," Serena said. "How sad."

His gaze found her mouth again and his own lips curved, caught somewhere between a grimace and a smile. "I am a Shields." He drew a long breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if he were gathering strength. It was a curiously vulnerable gesture, and Serena reacting on pure emotion, actually reached forward to touch him, as if contact would assure her that he would handle the information about Rini like a mature adult and father.

But he expelled his breath harshly, shooting words from his mouth like bullets. Mean words. Serena dropped her hand before he could open his eyes and view her with contempt. "So, is this why you came?" he demanded. "To say all these little hurtful things and hope it helps? Because it won't. It's too late for a post-mortem on a high school love affair. It just makes it seem all the more meaningless."

"And I thought I was the cynical one!" Serena gasped, amazed.

"You are cynical. That was just part of your game."

"Game?"

"That whole thing you played out our senior year." He shook his head. "Sarcasm, and a quick fling, then flirting with the whole damn team, then back after me… Then, right before graduation––gone." He snapped his fingers.

"I had my reasons."

"Did you think I'd charge after you like some love-sick knight in shining armour?"

"No! That wasn't why I left!"

"Oh, yeah? Three weeks 'til the end of school and you just decided to chuck it all in."

"I…couldn't stay," she objected.

"Why?"

"Because of you."

"Because of me," he repeated flatly.

"Because I loved you, and you didn't feel the same way."

"High school over isn't the same as real love," he argued.

"Oh? Who says?" Serena demanded.

"You left school because you loved me? Is that what you're trying to say?"

"I left school because you _didn't_ love me. And I needed to know that what we shared had meant something to you.

"It meant something to me."

"That's not what I mean!" Frustration nearly ate her up alive. Did he have to be so incredibly dense? "I mean, I wanted––_needed_––to think I was more than just another notch in your belt. And you couldn't give me that."

"This is just like that last fight we had," he said suddenly, frowning.

It was, Serena realised at almost the same moment. Their last fight had been just the same––an attempt to clear the air that failed dismally. "Of course it is. It's the same issue. I practically begged you to tell me you loved me, and you couldn't do it."

"And that's why you left?" he asked, trying to hide his disbelief.

She sounded small and pathetic. A part of her could understand Darien's inability to understand. But another part was wounded anew. Her battled soul, so scarred and worn she'd thought it couldn't be hurt again, ached with remembered pain. And once again she was furious with herself for caring so much.

"Actually, I'm here for a reason. I have something to say to you, and I've waited way too long to say it."

"We haven't seen each other for fourteen years. If this is some kind of delayed therapy, go for it." Darien was expansive, sweeping his arm our do that Serena suddenly saw where they were standing––on a dreary, rain-drenched sidewalk in front of a coffee shop where people walked by every half-minute or so and stared in curiosity.

This wasn't going to work. "Could we go somewhere and talk?" she asked. "Somewhere private?"

A huge drop of rain landed in his hair, then slid down his cheek. All the while, Serena watched the glittering water-diamond, Darien watched her. "I don't think so," he said, after a drawn-out moment. "I don't have a lot of time. If its psychological healing you're looking for, go find it somewhere else. I'm just not that interested in raking up the past."

Before she could do more than gape in amazement, he'd unlocked his Jeep, climbed inside and sketched a fatal, final goodbye.

In total disbelief Serena silently swore several pungent curse words. Momentarily defeated and furious, she headed to her motel room, intent on fleeing town and getting back to Lita and Nathan and the safety of her other life. But then she thought of Rini and knew she would never earn her daughter's respect by being a coward.

Gritting her teeth, Serena sat down at the desk and began to compose a lengthy letter.

* * *

So, that's the confrontation.

There's still more.

As you have realised, Darien's still clueless about Rini.

~!~Review Please~!~

Until next time,

Arrivederci!


	10. Fate and Mistakes

Sorry about the slight lateness. I just recently made it into a new school. Selective. Very different to my selective stream one.

And on top of that and the evil workload. I had missed my train. Twice. I was on the wrong platform. You can blame my best friend. We were talking and I didn't look at the boards. =.=

Then I was out. lol. I've definitely been busy.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

If you haven't gotten it yet, I would consider you searching up Sailor moon and finding out more about it. ;)

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**

* * *

**

"Honey, you stay in Crescent Bay until you get this thing straightened out." Lita's voice rang strong and warm over the telephone wire. "Nathan and I have everything managed here. Besides, you've hardly ever taken any holidays, so treat this as such."

"Thanks," Serena murmured, clutching the envelop in her hand.

"If we could help, we would. Just take your time, and relax."

"Has Rini called?"

"Mmm-hmm. She's kinda anxious, poor thing. But don't worry. Kids that age think there's a quick fix for everything, so they don't know how to wait."

"She doesn't have a clue," Serena murmured.

"Of course, she doesn't. She's thirteen! And don't go blaming yourself. What is, is. You did the best you could. I told her you were explaining things to her daddy, and you'd let her know as soon as everything was arranged." Lita hesitated. "Have you seen him?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Told him?"

Serena sniffed, more in annoyance at herself than anything else. "It was terrible. I hedged it. I couldn't bring myself to just blurt it out, and now I'm not sure how to approach him. I've…I've written a letter," she admitted.

"Mmm… Bad idea," Lita muttered.

"I know."

"Be brave, honey. You can do it."

"Captain Courageous, I'm not," Serena disagreed. "Every time I look at him I just feel _hysterical_. I thought if I wrote everything down, it would come out better."

"Well, it's a mess, but I think the direct approach, face-to-face, would be best. I'd hate to do it myself, but I think I would."

"You're stronger than I am."

"Oh, bull!" Lita chortled with laughter. "I'd be feeling the same way you do––probably a hundred times more scared. But when it comes to duty, both of us always do what's best, don't we."

"I guess."

"You read over that letter and see if you really want to give it to him. Then make your decision. You'll know."

Serena hung up slowly, knowing Lita was right, wishing fervently that she wasn't. In the back of her mind she'd always felt that the day would come when she would confront Darien, but in her everyday life she'd never been able to envision it. It was just too damn hard!

Smoothing out her hair with one hand, she glanced down at the letter clutched between her fingers. With sudden fury, she ripped open the envelop, scanned it contents, then groaned in frustration. It was terrible! Rambling and apologetic and downright embarrassing, now that she looked at it. Nope––telling Darien he was a father to a thirteen-year-old in neat cursive writing wasn't what she wanted. She had to do it in person. Deliberately she tore the missive into a half-a-dozen pieces, dusting them into the waste basket next to the motel room's nightstand.

With a sigh she swept her purse from the bed, then caught a glance at her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. All she saw were a pair of anxious, blue eyes gazing back at her.

* * *

There had been moments in Darien Shields' life when he'd glimpsed the future. Oh, it wasn't anything magical or mystical. Hardly. He'd never felt any connection to the unnamed forces around him apart from an occasional jolt of déjà vu. No, what he sometimes felt was a surety that at some given point of his life would turn out a specific way. The threads of his life were woven into a fabric; a fabric that would not unravel unless he forcefully cut it apart––something he would never do.

He'd known from the outset that he was meant to be with Caroline. It was fate. She was a part of him. Another side. A facet. She didn't demand, she waited––a paragon of patience. She was his other half.

And it didn't matter that he neither loved nor wanted her. Waiting for the right woman, his perfect match, was a romantic notion he'd given up in high school. Marriage wasn't like that, anyway. It was living with someone day by day––a friend and companion. It was keeping everything in perspective.

He'd resolved himself to his marriage to Caroline years ago––almost from the moment Serena Tsukino had left Crescent High. Serena had messed with his mind all through senior year. He'd been forced to share her with Diamonde Campbell, for God's sake! To this day, he didn't understand it.

Looking back, he was pretty certain she'd cared about him. She'd actually given herself to him––a memory he still couldn't quite shake. But he'd fought his feelings, pretended he didn't care. It was too intense and he was too young and scared. In retaliation, she'd looked Diamonde's way and that had been Darien's undoing. He'd smashed the grinning bastard in the face, starting a fight that had gotten them both thrown off the football team during the play-offs.

His father had never forgiven him for that, and jerk that he was then, Darien had tried to blame Serena. Her friends pleaded with him to talk to her, to meet with her, but he'd been too arrogant, proud and just plain stupid. Then she's called him up Valentine's Day and he'd buckled. He couldn't stand it, but all he could remember now was how she'd looked at him, warm and tender and available, and moron that he was, he'd refused to accept the invitation, wrapped up in his own false nobility that had nearly suffocated him.

He'd kicked himself over that. He'd wanted her like he'd never wanted another woman, before or since. And then there was one last chance. One last night of love-making with May rain pouring all around the tree house while Serena whispered words of love and commitment. He'd soaked it up like some life-renewing elixir.

Then she was gone.

Sure, he'd been a jerk. He'd played with her emotions because he didn't know how to handle his own. He'd been consumed with puppy love and scared spitless over his feelings, so he'd never actually said the words back, although he'd sure felt them.

Love… Man, it had hurt. But, thank God for small favours, he'd kept his feelings to himself and escaped without making a total fool out of himself. It would have been an even more hellish summer after graduation if he'd given his heart and she'd stomped all over it. The way things stood, he'd told himself nightly, it was a smart thing to keep his emotions locked inside. She might have massacred his heart, but at least he'd held on to some dignity and self-respect.

But sometimes he still thought back…_What if…_

Darien screeched his Jeep to a halt in front of his parents' home. Climbing out, he turned his face to a wild breeze that slapped wetly against his face. Good. He needed a slap to his senses. He'd looked at Serena Tsukino standing Beachtime Coffee and felt like he'd been kicked in the groin. Damn it all! What was wrong with him?

Unlocking the gate he jogged to the front door, thought better of it, then circled to the rear of the house and entered through the back door. But that reminded him of Serena, too. The time she'd saved him from hypothermia.

Glancing at the clock he realised that it wasn't even noon yet. Wishing he'd succumbed to his first inclination and was now holding up a stool at the Tank House, he threw open the refrigerator door and swore violently when he realised there wasn't a beer to be had.

"Darien?" Beryl's voice scraped along his nerves.

Closing the door he saw her standing at the edge of the room, one hand holding open the swing door. Without a word he turned on his heel.

"Where are you going?" she demanded.

_To get drunk,_ he thought to himself while his voice stated, "Out."

* * *

Their first night of lovemaking was etched in his memory. The hammock, the scent of fall leaves, the light perfume that flavoured her hair and made him want to bury his face in those thick tresses. Her body was satin. She'd given it so effortlessly that night. Even to this day when he thought of her soft flesh and the rustle of eager hands removing confining clothes and even more eager lips discovering secret hollows and curves…his damn body reacted like a horny teenager's.

She'd told him she loved him over and over again. At first he'd soaked up the adoration like it was his due. Ego. He'd been lousy with it. Darien Shields, quarterback of the football team, most sought after dream guy; God, it was miserable to admit, but he'd bought into the whole damn thing, hook, line and sinker!

When he'd first made love to Serena, although every one of his sense had been aflame with desire, not once had he uttered words of love in return. She'd been hurt; he could feel how confused she was after that sweet, hot union, but he hadn't really cared. Not the way he should have. Not then.

He supposed, in a way, he was somewhat responsible for her next move. Hindsight was so incredibly clear. She'd turned to Diamonde to make him jealous and it had worked like the proverbial charm! He'd wanted to murder his old football partner. Turning to the solace of Caroline's arms hadn't been any answer, either. Caroline's coolness was so off-putting that even his friends' assurances that she was probably hot under all that ice could neither convince Darien nor make him want her.

So, he blamed Serena totally and fought his feelings for her. And he just knew––the way he sometimes felt the weight of certainty about the future––that she was trouble for him. About as bad a match as could be made. And it didn't take his mother's continual harassing about her to convince him, either––though Beryl was particularly eloquent on the subject of Serena Tsukino.

No, it was his own innate awareness of what would work, and what wouldn't. And he _knew_ it wasn't every going to work with Serena.

Then she'd phoned him on Valentine's Day. And like the love-hungry fool he'd been, he'd met her for a soft drink and some stupid small talk and a ridiculous heart-shaped pizza. There was a lushness about her that never ceased to intrigue him; he could look at her for hours.

And that sarcastic tongue was such a shock. Half the time he felt she was three steps ahead of him, but then he could read the desperation in her eyes and he sensed again the trap that he would fall into if he were to take those last steps toward her.

But, it hadn't stopped him wanting her. He'd hated seeing her with Diamonde, even if it was just a chance word in the halls. He'd hated seeing her with any other guy.

"Another?" the bartender asked. Darien lifted his head. He'd ripped the bar napkin into shreds. Merrick, who was more than amiably drunk already, was being coerced into taking a ride home with a friend. Darien supposed he should care what happened to his head "chef," but apathy seemed to have infected his every pore.

Nodding to the bartender, Darien expelled a sigh of frustration, wishing it mattered as little as he would like everyone to believe.

There had been a time at the beginning of their senior year when they'd hung out as a sixsome––he and Serena, and Matt and Mina, and Andrew and Raye. None of them had been really dating, although he and Serena were connected at a primal level that had made him feel as if an engine was always humming inside his head. Then the night he and Sere had first made loved ended their group; _he'd_ ended it. He'd wanted a different kind of relationship, although he'd been clueless as to what that different kind of relationship might be.

He had hurt Serena. Had been unable to risk words of love and commitment and desire. He'd let his body do the talking and been proud of himself for his detachment.

Ha! Some detachment! He'd about gone crazy when she'd drifted to Diamonde.

Dumb, dumb, dumb…

Then in May, after that tentative Valentine's Day truce and a throbbing need that wouldn't die, Darien had run for her like a dying man.

And she'd been waiting. He'd picked her up outside Crown's, wrapped her in his arms, told her how much he'd missed her, how much he wanted her, and her resistance had melted like spring snow. They'd made love in the hammock all night while water dripped musically around the tree house. Only when the sun rose and Serena remarked how she'd never stayed out all night before, did Darien start having those second thoughts. Terrible thoughts. Mean thoughts that should never have been voiced whether he'd believed them or not.

There had been rumours that she'd been sleeping with Diamonde, too. There had even been talk that she was pregnant and not sure who the father was. That had merely stopped his heart, considering that he was definitely a candidate! But he hadn't believed any of it. Not really. Well, sort of. Rumours flew through Crescent High like the wind.

But waking up that spring morning, Serena's Tsukino's warm nude body cuddled in his arms, Darien Shields had asked himself in a cold, scared voice, _What the hell are you doing?_ How could he keep making such stupid mistakes? He hadn't used protection. Either time! And what did he know about Serena Tsukino, anyway, except that her home life was bad enough for her to want a ticket out of it?

With the benefit of hindsight, he could see what a bastard he'd been, changing from passionate lover to remorseful stranger in such rapid succession that Serena was left stunned and wounded. She'd gazed at him through those huge, naked eyes, and although he'd hated himself, he couldn't stop babbling on about Caroline and how, although he _liked_ Serena, they weren't meant to be together. Then his voice had dried up at the sparkle of tears in her eyes, tears left unshed. He'd wanted to drag her back into his arms and shout how much he loved her, but it was too late.

He told himself, he'd done the right thing: there was no future for them.

He loathed himself like he'd never loathed anything before, or since.

The next few weeks had been the purest form of torture. Self-inflicted. He deserved every moment of it. Anguish gnawed at him. He'd been so cruel. He hadn't meant to be.

_What the hell was he supposed to do?_

Finally, unable to stand it anymore, he'd called Serena but to his shock she was out with Diamonde! Fury licked through him, hot and nasty and evil. So, he'd been right, after all. She'd just been looking out for a way out. If she couldn't have Darien Shields, she would settle for Diamonde Campbell.

Darien wanted to rip out Diamonde's heart. Instead, he concentrated on coldly learning to hate Serena.

The same night he learned Serena was dating Diamonde, Darien's parents were having a dinner party at their house and had invited the Newsmiths. Darien was supposed to behave like a proper gentleman. Caroline was there, of course, but all he could think about was Serena––and Diamonde–– and a seething, silent rage, careened his emotions out of control. He was less than worthless as a host––a glowering, furious maniac.

And then Serena showed up at the house. Shaking, upset, panicked, she rang the front bell, a summons answered by his mother. Beryl strode into the salon where he half sprawled in a chair, a blatant display of arrogance and disrespect.

As if divining Serena was somehow the cause, Beryl bit out frostily, "that trashy Tsukino girl is here to see you, Darien. I had half a mind to tell her you weren't here. Make it quick."

Everyone stared. Darien took his time rising to his feet, but inside his heart hammered and perspiration collected along the back of his neck and palms. Nerves. God, she could turn him into mush.

Beryl followed him to the front door. "Don't invite her in. I don't know where Caroline gets her patience!"

"I'll handle this," he told her through his teeth.

"We have guests, Darien," she implored.

Darien ignored her. He practically ran to Serena's arms desperate for escape, his own anger and hurt turning him deaf, dumb and blind. But she was shivering and wretched, immersed in some inner turmoil that, as it turned out, had nothing to do with him…

"It was Diamonde," she whispered, staring down at herself in horrified disbelief. Belatedly, Darien noticed several buttons were ripped off her shirt. Her hair was mussed. A streak of dirt painted her cheek. Half-choked sobs issued from her throat and she ran shaking fingers through her tangled mane, embarrassment and fear turning her cheeks alabaster white.

He'd seen red. He left with Serena, determined to beat Diamonde Campbell into an inch of his life.

"No," she'd moaned, one hand on his arm as he furiously wheeled his car onto the road, nearly side-swiping Mr. Newsmith's black Mercedes. "There's something else. I––I need to talk to you."

"You want to talk about something beside's Diamonde's attack?" Darien demanded, insane with jealousy.

"He scared me, but I just––I just need to see you." Her voice was strangled, barely audible. "Please forget about Diamonde."

"Forget about him?" Darien bellowed. "Are you crazy?"

"I just had to see you."

He'd looked at her, then. Really examined her. And he hadn't like what he saw. Could she have faked this whole "attack" story? A smudge of first on her face, a few ripped buttons, a shaking lower lip––it would be so easy to dupe someone as lovesick as Darien Shields.

Instead of feeling sympathy, he'd begun to wonder at what was real. Near rape, or just a ploy to win his attention? How convenient that Diamonde had been so persistent! Or maybe she'd led Diamonde on and involving Darien was her way of working on _him_.

He'd driven her to the beach, questions digging at his brain. She was shaking from head to toe, self-conscious about her blouse, huddled on the passenger side of the car.

"I need to know what your feelings are for me," she said in such a quiet voice he could scarcely hear her. When he didn't respond, she added, "I––I just can't go on like this without knowing."

"Without knowing what?" he'd asked, treading carefully. Who knew what diabolical plan was hatching in that beautiful head of hers?

"Do you love me…just a little?"

He'd gazed at her detachedly. It was a hell of a performance, but she had to think he was a complete moron to believe it. The Serena Tsukino he knew was confident and spicy and sarcastic, and this lost-little-girl stuff was just too much to buy.

"I don't believe you," he stated flatly.

"What…?"

"I don't believe you. You probably weren't even with Diamonde. You're just trying to get some sympathy."

"You––you––you think I did this to myself?"

She gestured to her clothes, so utterly stunned that Darien realised he'd been wrong.

"No, I don't know. Maybe your father," he said feebly.

"Oh, God!"

She nearly ripped the door off its hinges in her fury to get out of his car.

"I didn't mean it," he apologised instantly. This was the truth. It had been a horrible thing to say. He had no basis of fact. It was all rumour about her family anyway. He scrambled out after her. They faced each other with a warm May breeze billowing her hair around her pale, oval face.

"I hate you!" she declared in a voice packed with rage. "I really hate you! You don't know _anything!_"

Darien felt something inside him crack at that.

"Look, I––I'm sorry."

"You are so stuck on yourself! Everything revolves around you. I can't believe myself. I was so blind!"

"If you say Diamonde did this to you, I believe you."

"You're incredible."

Her eyes were dark pools of resentment; mouth now drawn tight. Darien knew he'd stepped over the line, yet a part of him was just as upset as she was. "I'll kill Diamonde," he growled.

"Too late." Serena'a voice rang with ugly sarcasm.

"I don't want to see you again, Take me home!"

"Fine. But I'm going looking for Diamonde."

"When you find him, I hope he beats the living tar out of you!"

"He'll be lucky to get one punch," Darien snarled.

Her mouth worked. He expected round two. Instead, two tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, caught by the moonlight. She tipped her head back and inhaled a shaky breath, her breasts heaving with emotion. In that moment Darien was consumed by lust, his own body reacting to her vulnerability in a very male, very acceptable way. But he couldn't help reaching forward to catch a piece of her silken hair between his fingers.

She jerked as if he'd slapped her. Her eyes shot dark sparks of fury and she batted his hand away. "Don't touch me."

"Serena…"

"If you're not taking me home, I'm walking." With that she twisted away, half-stumbling up the beach. It was the completely wrong direction and after a few silent swear words, Darien took off after her.

He caught her halfway to the surf. "I'll take you home."

"No."

"Damn it, Serena! I don't know what the deal is, but I can drive you home!"

"I'm not going there. I'm not going there every again. And, _no_, my dad didn't do this to me. Oh, God." Hysterical laughter bubbled from her breast. "Maybe I did it to myself."

Something else was going on here besides Diamonde's pawing and her own need for him to admit his feelings. "What is it?" he asked, really wanting to know.

"Nothing." Her voice was flat.

"Tell me."

She opened her mouth as if to speak, caught herself, gazed at him long and hard, shook her head and silently walked toward his car, her steps weighted as if she were the oldest person living on the planet. Darien made one last attempt to talk to her, but she was deaf to him. She'd checked out, somehow, and only revived long enough to absolutely, totally and completely refuse a ride home.

He made some stupid comment––he couldn't remember what; something about her stubbornness––and she glared at him.

"I made a big mistake," she told him. "I made a big mistake in loving you."

"Serena…"

"I hate you now. You don't know how much…"

* * *

Now, cradling his beer, Darien suddenly shivered, the memory ice-cold. Some said hell was a frozen land with no warmth. He could believe it. Serena's glacial ending had been completely final. She'd never returned to school. And while Darien frantically tried to reach her and make amends for his heartlessness and lack of understanding, she was already on her way to her new life––whatever that was.

He'd never seen her again until now, and the irony of it was that seeing her again brought back the heat she'd stolen from his life. He hadn't even really known it had been missing. But last night, and this morning, he'd felt a furnace blast of emotion and, yes, desire; and although his head was clear, his body was all too eager to jump in and get burned again.

* * *

Ahh well... I know you hate me.

I'm dragging this on a bit aren't I? But I promise it will end. Maybe in around 2 months. You can do the math and think about the yet to come chapters.

Alright, don't hate on me if you think there isn't enough action.

Obviously I want to explore the inner emotions of my characters. This is a inner journey. lol.

Since I am studying journeys...Bleh

Anyways REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW!

Next week's might be a bit short so don't hate on me. =(

But it'll be good I promise.

Until next time, Bye!


	11. Whoops

Hellos peoples! Nice day? I just love the rain and clouds. The smell before and after is just wonderful.

And the clouds make it seem darker, and much more nicer when you cuddle up in bed...

Too bad I'm stuck downstairs doing homework late into the early mornings.

Homework, homework, homework... Definitely the devil's creation.

Speaking of which, I have chemistry, business studies, economics, english, math and psychology homework too...

Oh well...

I'll get to it eventually...

Like 12 tonight...

Sigh...

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

So don't even think of Sailor Moon as mine. I wish. But it's never gona happen.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

**

* * *

**

"I'm sorry, he's not here," the pert young woman behind the reception desk told Serena, her brows lifted inquiringly. "I'm not sure when he'll be back."

Darien's receptionist, Kate, as her name plate read, eyed Serena with open curiosity. It occurred to Serena that Darien's small offices didn't invite a large crowd of customers; it wasn't the nature of his business.

"Would you tell him that Serena Tsukino stopped by?" The words were sawdust in her throat. "I'll call him later."

"Sure."

Back on the street, Serena detested her continuing cowardice. She was glad––overjoyed! ––at the reprieve. A bad sign. A bad, bad sign.

With time on her hands and nothing to do but wait, she walked across the street o Crawfish Delish, instantly aware that some crisis was in full swing.

"The chef walked out," one of the waiters moaned as Serena took a seat.

"He's just a cook," another waiter sniffed. "And a drunk, too."

"The orders are backed up," the first one complained in a near wail. "I'm just about to quit, too!"

"Need some help?" Serena offered. "I run a restaurant in Atlanta. I'm not bad at waitressing."

"Are you serious?" The waiter blinked twice, then rushed to the front counter where five minutes later a woman about Serena's age came out to apologise.

"I can't believe they'd go so far as to offer a job to one of our customers!" she declared, flustered.

They started at each other. Slowly, Serena realised that the heavyset woman with red hair was none other than her old friend, Molly.

"Serena?" Molly asked, blinking.

"Hi," she said a bit shyly. "I just keep running into people I know. I guess that's what happens when you return to your hometown."

"What are you doing here? Jeez, you look great." Envy and admiration were mixed together. "Everyone said you'd be a movie star, or something."

"'Or something,'" she agreed with a laugh. "Actually, I was serious about the job. I'm just in town for a while, but I feel so useless and when I walked here, well…" She shrugged. "If you need some temporary help, I'd love to help out. I can cook a little, too."

"Well, Merrick'll be back after he gets his knickers out of a knot," Molly sniffed. "But hey, if you're serious, it'd be great!

"Are you the owner?" Serena inquired.

"Day manager. Oh yeah, Amy's a doctor now, I guess all that studying paid off. She's moved away and gotten married to some guy called Zephan."

"Really."

"I'm divorced," Molly added, as if Serena had asked. "How about you?"

"Single."

"I don't believe it. I always thought… Huh." She lifted her shoulders dismissively. "The guys all wanted you. I remember wanting to be you, senior year."

"High school's tough, isn't it?" Serena blurted out, heartfelt.

"Hey!" the wailing waiter cried, and Molly grabbed Serena's hand and led her through the few obligatory forms, hiring her on the sport. Serena was taking orders by one o'clock and by five, she was in the kitchen, learning the chef's "secret" recipes, which were really basic seafood dishes prepared with spices that added flair. By six, she was ignoring admiring glances from Dennis, the night manager, and by eight she'd befriended every employee and was a minor sensation at the small restaurant.

At ten she walked into a cold mist and turned as if by route toward Crown Parlour. Andrew was at work and, spying Serena, he saluted her with a flourish of a hand towel.

"You're still here! I'm glad. I told Rita about you and she wants to see you."

_I'll bet,_ Serena thought, but she made appropriate interested responses.

"We should get the gang together again," Andrew added.

She remembered all the whispering after she and Darien had separated at the end of football season. Andrew had always staunchly defended her to Darien and his other buddies, but there was no way he could really understand how difficult the situation had been for Serena. She would have done anything to win Darien's love, and she'd hated Caroline for being the girl for him.

Even now, hearing that Caroline and Darien were engaged had the power to twist something inside her soul. Serena hadn't forgotten Darien's stumbling speech on how he and Caroline were made for each other––_after he'd made love to her!_

And then she'd learned of her pregnancy. She'd still been reeling from the news when a drunken, overeager Diamonde Campbell, had ignored all her signals and attempted to maul her. She'd run to Darien, expecting a white knight to ride to her rescue in more ways than one. After all, Diamonde's amorous attack had seemed ludicrous rather than frightening; it still did. It was the pregnancy that had her shattered and sobbing, but Darien's Neanderthal thinking had, naturally, travelled down one route.

_Enough,_ Serena thought now, realising Andrew was watching her curiously. _Enough introspection_.

"I saw Mina and Matt today," she told him. "They invited me to their wedding."

"Are you going?" Andrew was eager.

"I don't think I'll still be here."

"It's not that far away."

"I know, but…I've just got some things to take care of, and with any luck, I'll do that tonight."

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to the Shields'," Serena revealed, making a face at the thought. "I tried to talk to Darien today, but it didn't work."

"He's gotten a little cold," Andrew apologised instantly, ever the good friend. "Don't let it put you off."

"It didn't." She half laughed. "It's swear coming back here and seeing so many familiar faces. You always think things will change, but Crescent Bay feels like it's been caught in a time capsule.

"Did Darien seem that way to you?" Andrew asked.

"Among others," Serena half answered.

"Have you seen Caroline?" At Serena's shake of her head, he said, "Looks great, like you," he added in kindly. "But she's… Well, she was _always _cold, if you know what I'm mean."

"I know what you mean," Serena's eyes twinkling.

"It would have been good for Darien to leave for a while, you know? I mean, try to imagine being a Shields all your life.

Serena actually laughed, her musical lilt catching the attention of several groups of people eating food at various booths. Encouraged, Andrew added, "Must be hell being a stuffed shirt, huh?"

"Hell," Serena agreed, grinning.

"You and I never were."

"No, we weren't."

"Thank God," he muttered fervently. "It's a flat-out curse––that background. Darien's mother's enough to make you afraid to fall asleep at night."

"Nasty Witch."

"She's even worse now since Darien's dad died. The Shield own everything in town, and Darien just gets unhappier with every purchase."

"Are you and––Darien––still close friends?" Serena ventured.

"Nah. Not really. He doesn't come in here, and I'm busy with my family. Whenever we see each other we act like we're going to get together, but it never happens."

"That's a shame," Serena murmured.

"Yeah… Well, things change." As if hearing how maudlin the conversation was becoming, he asked, "Hey, you hungry? I can make you something to eat." He said, getting ready to move behind the counter.

"I just finished a shift at Crawfish Delish."

"A shift?"

"I'm their newest employee. Just for a while, until I…get things settled. Their cook quit today, and it was a madhouse. What?"

Andrew's face wore the most peculiar expression. "Did you meet the owner?"

"No. Why?"

He shook his head, opened his mouth, clamped his lips together, then shook his head again. It was actually quite amusing, if it were at another time. After a few moments, he said, "The Shields own Crawfish Delish, Serena."

"_What?_"

"I told you they own everything."

Serena was speechless. She was working for Darien! Her little rescue mission had just made another tie between her and the Shields. "Well," she said finally, exhaling heavily. "I guess when I see him, that'll give us one more thing to talk about."

"Good luck," Andrew said, and Serena headed back out into the wind-driven night.

* * *

"Hey, wake up, Mr. Shields. You're home."

Darien lifted his head and squinted through the windshield of an unfamiliar car. The vehicle was old and losing its muffler. The sound was deafening. Black rain streaked the windshield, then was swept away by scratchy wipers only to return to a thick, wavy sheath a moment later.

Darien's perception had been dealt a deathly blow. He was having a hell of a time remembering whom he was with. "What?" he asked thickly.

"You're home," one of the Tank House's barmaids reminded him with a gently shake of his shoulder. "Your Jeep's still on the street. You were in it, but not moving, so I offered to give you a ride."

"Thanks," he muttered, meaning it.

"My pleasure."

He stumbled from the car, waved a thank-you, then fumbled with the front gate. Lord, when was the last time he'd been too drunk to drive?

The barmaid's car throbbed away, some dangerously worrisome metallic sound scraping underneath its hood. Serious auto work ahead, Darien decided hazily. Glancing down at his shoes, he noted the slippery mud oozing over the sides. _I'll have to take them off before I go inside,_ he reminded himself dutifully, and just as quickly forgot it.

Swaying on the front-porch steps, he came to himself again. Damn it, he was at Shields Manor, as Serena Tsukino would say. He should have asked her to take him to his condo. Too late now, though. Tomorrow there would be hell to pay, no doubt about it. But for tonight he didn't give a damn. Make that, he didn't give a _good_ goddamn.

Headlights flashed around the corner. Darien squinted in the direction of the approaching car, decided he didn't give a good goddamn about them, either, and let himself into the house, half falling over the threshold.

Once in the foyer he remembered the mud on his shoes but it was too late. The gleaming patina of the polished oak was smeared with sloppy clumps of muck, and the fringed edge of the octagonal Oriental carpet was dark brown and wet.

"Whoops." Wrinkling his nose, he removed his shoes, nearly losing his balance in the process and swearing good-naturedly at his drunkenness.

Sharps footsteps sounded like a rain of bullets. They approached from the rear of the house, Beryl's sitting room. Darien stood to attention, thought it might be amusing to salute, then found himself swaying front of both Beryl and Caroline, hand at his brow.

Their mouths were twin ovals of horror.

_Whoops again._

"Darien!" his mother hissed.

"Oh, Darien," Caroline murmured, half turning away.

Suddenly he remembered he was supposed to meet Caroline tonight. Dinner, he recalled. Or was that last night? Nope, last night she'd been out of town.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Where have you been?" Beryl demanded.

"Out drinking?" he suggested. Thinking he was the epitome of humour, he started laughing, ignoring the heated silence from the two women in his life.

Two women in his life.

_What's best for you._

He shuddered.

The doorbell rang.

"Someone's on the porch," Beryl snapped, frowning. "Did you leave the gate open?"

Darien shook his head, then nodded, deciding, yes, he had left the gate open.

"Our reservation was for eight," Caroline reminded him a tad frostily.

"I don't think we're going to make it," Darien answered as a soft rap sounded on the front door. "I'll get it," he added magnanimously, but Beryl, after shooting him a look that could cut through steel, opened the door herself.

"Oh!" she said, surprised.

Darien peered behind him and nearly fell over. Serena stood on the other side of the threshold, her hair windblown, rain darkening the shoulders of her black jacket, looking gorgeously wanton and refreshing as sea air.

"May I come in?" she asked, her gaze searching out Darien. Those sky blue eyes made contact and Darien felt his stomach seize up.

"By all means," he invited with a sweep gesture of his arm that nearly knocked him over.

"Darien!" Beryl hissed.

"Darien," Caroline entreated.

Ignoring them both, he said, "May I take your coat?" then reaching forward to do so. Feeling her skin shiver beneath his fingers, he wondered suddenly if maybe he wasn't quite drunk enough to deal with the force that was Serena Tsukino.

"What brings you out so late?" Beryl asked her.

Darien blinked at her, wondering why his mother sounded so fearful. What was it about Serena that sent Beryl into such a state?

"I think you know," was Serena's mystifying answer before she turned to Darien and said, "Is there somewhere we could go talk alone?"

* * *

Hey guys...

You might hate me a bit...

But it's dragging on...

That's why, I'm updating again soon. Probably in the middle of the week, maybe...

This is my way of an apology for leaving the confession for so long.

But the next chapter, won't be that long...

After that, I'll update when I can.

Maybe 4, 5 chappies to go, so you can be sure the 'confession' will be sometime soon.

But the workload's really pushing me down.

See ya again in a couple of days!

And don't forget..

REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW

I swear, I would like some number of reviews before I update again.

=)


	12. Unprepared

So exhausted, I hate homework.

Anyways, I'll explain this now before you go crazy on me, but these set of chapters are anti-climaxes to the upcoming event.

The 'actual' confession won't happen for maybe a couple chapters.

Don't blame me. You can blame my torturous evil side.

But don't be afraid, there will be a confession, there will be a climax, there will be an end.

Just not now.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**

* * *

**

"I don't think that'd be such a great idea," Darien replied, one hand reaching awkwardly for the foyer wall for a means of support.

"Darien's not in any state to go out," Beryl declared tightly.

"I can make my own decisions, thank you very much," he told her amiably. "I'm going to head into the salon. Why don't you all join me?"

Serena felt like crying in frustration as she watched Darien move into the glided room at the southwest corner of the house. She'd made a mistake. Once again. Although at least this time she could console herself with the thought that she'd had no way of knowing Darien wouldn't be sober. Instead of relief, however, she felt annoyance and frustration. She wanted to unburden herself, and she wanted to do it now.

Beryl Shields had aged. Little wonder; they'd all aged. But the fire that had sustained her still burned. Serena could practically feel its heat coming from the woman in waves of hate.

Or was it fear?

Beryl was in on this deception, too, Serena reminded herself grimly. Beryl had guessed the truth and then had had the gall to try and direct Serena which path to take.

As she looked at Beryl now, a flood of uncertain emotions poured through Serena's veins. It didn't help to have Caroline standing behind the woman's shoulder, a lieutenant in this war with the Evil Witch, the autocratic general.

Oh, how it hurt. Serena was surprised by the pain. She quivered inside, as much from Darien's unexpected touch when he removed her black jacket, as from the turbulent emotions plaguing her at the sight of her old nemesis.

Yes, Darien had hurt her, too. Yes, he was the reason she'd fled without telling him she was pregnant. But it was Beryl––and Serena guessed Caroline might be involved somewhere, too––who had turned Serena's wound into a mortal one. It was Beryl who had ultimately forced Serena to leave town.

She'd actually come to Serena's home a few days after Serena's embarrassing appearance at the Shield dinner party––shown up on a hot June night dressed in a lavender silk suit. She'd come from church, she said, although it was a Wednesday night and Serena had never known Beryl to be an avid churchgoer. She'd come to offer Serena money in order to drive her out of Darien's life forever. But the money was nothing compared to the pain of Darien's rejection.

So, now, with Beryl's red eyes staring her down and memories swirling like dust devils, Serena remembered everything––the lies, the hurt, the money and the deception. And the guilt that had been eating at her lessened a bit because although she was partially at fault, she'd been barely _eighteen!_ Beryl had been a grown woman who should have had some scruples, while Serena had scarcely set a toe into the adult world.

Or so her guilty conscious had tried to assure her.

"Are you coming?" Darien asked from the doorway, looking dishevelled in a frustratingly sexy way. His hair flopped forward and the grim lines around his mouth were replaced by a hint of dimples. He'd always been way too attractive––blessed by the gods. Wondering what she could possibly accomplish, Serena took a step after him.

"Wait," Beryl muttered harshly. "You have no business being here."

Serena eyed her adversary. "I have business."

"What kind of business?" Caroline asked, hey eyes following Darien's progress as he threw himself onto a couch at the very edge of Serena's vision. Unhappiness had drawn fine lines around Caroline's mouth.

"You've been out of Darien's life for years," Beryl declared, picking her words carefully. So, Caroline didn't know. It was Beryl's dirty own little secret. "You can't come back now without some consequences."

"Consequences?" Serena inched her chip upward, praying she could keep up her bravado. But a traitorous little shudder had begun in her lower limbs, a trembling she could not control although she desperately wanted to appear calm and cool. Beryl had that effect on her. She'd always had that effect.

"Caroline, would you mind giving us a minute alone?" Beryl asked.

Caroline looked from Serena to Beryl. Clearly she was as confused as Darien about Beryl's strange aversion to Serena. Murmuring an assent, she headed after Darien, but as soon as she was gone, Serena wished her back. Alone with a viper. The Evil Witch. Serena met Beryl Shields' sharp gaze with hot defiance.

"We had a deal," Beryl said in a low voice.

"You and I never had a deal," Serena replied.

She thought back to the ten thousand dollars she'd been forced to accept from Beryl once she'd left Crescent Bay, pregnant and alone. Her Aunt Elena had taken pity on Serena and given her a home in Atlanta while Serena awaited the birth. But when the check arrived from Beryl and Serena refused to sign it on principle, Elena had taken matter in to her own hands and forged Serena's signature. Serena couldn't believe it, but she didn't stop it. Aunt Elena insisted they had to do it for Serena's mother's sake. Ilene Tsukino had tried her best to keep the pregnancy a secret from her husband, but when Ken Tsukino found out, his wrath was endless. The money helped Ilene move closer to Elena and Serena––and far from her abusive husband.

But of course, Beryl wouldn't understand that kind of desperation.

"You took the money," Beryl hissed. "If you rake this up now, I'll demand it all back."

"And I'll get it for you," Serena answered tautly.

Beryl snorted. "You can't possibly pay it all back"

"I don't have to discuss this with you. It's Darien who needs to know the truth."

"You can't talk to him now. He's drunk." Her mouth said the words as if it tasted bad; her expression seemed to suggest Darien's lack of sobriety was entirely Serena's fault. "Go home and think about what you're doing. I mean, _seriously_ think about it."

"I've thought about it for fourteen years." Serena pushed past her on her way into the salon and Darien.

Caroline was perched next to him on a burgundy couch that looked old and beautiful and expensive, probably a one-of-a-kind antique. Darien sprawled, legs out, hands dangling between his knees, his eyes half-closed with sleep. Serena hated to admit that Beryl might be actually right: now wasn't the time to tell him about Rini.

"So, how long are you in town?" Caroline asked, smoothing her palms on her dress.

"I'm not sure," Serena answered, wondering how many times she'd been asked that question since she'd resurfaced in Crescent Bay.

"Serena…" Darien muttered suddenly. "Still haunting the neighbourhood, I see." His gaze narrowing on Serena in a way that momentarily panicked her. Was he more sober than he let on?

But no, his head flopped toward Caroline, his temple touching one tense shoulder. She reached up to touch him but it was a curiously reluctant gesture, as if she were unfamiliar with the feel of him, her fiancé. There was absolutely no naturalness about Caroline Newsmith at all. She wouldn't meet Serena's eyes, and Serena, for reasons, she didn't want to examine too closely, felt her chest constrict painfully.

"It's been a long time," Caroline murmured, her smile forced.

"A lifetime," Serena agreed.

"So, you wanted to see Darien?"

"Well, yes…among other people," Serena added, realising her small lie was to save Caroline embarrassment. Why she cared, she couldn't say, but Caroline's petty meanness in high school seemed far away and remote right now; practically nonexistent, as insubstantial as fairy dust.

High school itself was an ancient memory and Serena marvelled that such a brief span of her life, a time spent wallowing in teen angst and infantile emotions, had produced such a rage of continuing torment.

_It had produced Rini_, she reminded herself. And Rini was the reason everything mattered so much to this day. Rini was a product of intense feelings, and maybe that was why she appeared so intense herself.

"It's really great to get all misty-eyed over high school, isn't it?" Darien declared ironically.

"People move on. Grow up. Change their lives." This was from Caroline, surprisingly, who seemed to suddenly feel the need to justify her position. "Did you know Mina Aino is marrying Matt Dalton?" On Valentine's Day," she added, unwilling sending a frisson up Serena's spine.

_Rini's birthday._

"I heard this morning," Serena admitted. "Mina invited me to the wedding."

Caroline's eyes flared. "Are you going?"

"I…think so," Serena said, wondering what devil had possessed her.

"So, you're staying in Crescent Bay, then," Darien said. Beneath his thick inscrutable lashes she couldn't tell if he was watching her or not.

"My business partner wants to make a trade. I take a few weeks off now, I babysit her child and take care most of the business' accounting and budgets."

"Kind of like a reunion for you," Caroline suggested. She looked none too happy with the arrangements.

"It's more like a pilgrimage," Serena admitted.

A cool breeze swirled through the room and everyone looked to the doorway where Beryl stood like a statue. Serena's fanciful mind wondered if the stirring air was created by her own cold fury, but she could see the front door had cracked back open, and the breath of the sea air was welcome in these close confines.

Examining Darien, Beryl demanded, "How long have you been drinking?"

"Darien shot her a glance that would have set a lesser person's knees to quaking. But Beryl was made of stern stuff. "Not long enough," he told her. "I'm still conscious."

"I'm sure you're making a wonderful impression on our guest."

"Don't worry about Serena," Darien said before Serena could object herself. "She escaped early. Ran right out of town."

Beryl's hands fluttered. "It's not like you to do this sort of thing."

"Really," Darien drawled. "What _is_ like me? Living here with you? Letting the Shields empire swallow me up whole?" He threw his arms, nearly overbalancing. "I shoulda up and spilt, like Amara."

Beryl inhaled sharply. "There's no point in this."

Serena had come to the same conclusion. "I'll go."

"No, don't." Darien struggled to his feet.

"I'll…call you," Serena told him as Caroline got to her feet, too, as if she were afraid to let him do anything on his own with Serena in the room.

"You wanted to see me alone. Now's a great time. Maybe I can catch a ride home with you."

"I'll take you!" Caroline quickly offered.

"This can wait," Serena agreed. "I'll be around for a while, and there's bound to be a better time to talk." Serena meant her words. Now that she'd made her decision to stick around Crescent Bay a bit longer, the pressure was off. She would call the Kentwells tonight, she decided, and tell them what was happening. Rini would want to know.

"What are you going to do?" Beryl demanded, clearly unable to help herself. Small wonder. She had a lot to lose.

"Go to bed," Serena said, deliberately misunderstanding. Then a mirthful sprite inside her suddenly said, "Oh, I took a job while I'm here. Its just temporary, but it's a lot of fun. At Crawfish Delish."

Beryl gasped. Caroline's jaw dropped, and Darien stared at her in a way she couldn't quite fathom. Serena wouldn't have human if she didn't enjoy the moment a little. They deserved it––the whole lot of these "on the water" snobs.

"Then maybe I'll see you at work," Darien drawled, a grin lightening his face. He, at least, saw the humour in the situation.

They stared at each other, and Serena sensing that he'd somehow joined her "side", at least for the moment, decided it was a good time to leave. With some muttered goodbyes, she hurried out of the house, holding her breath until she was inside her rental car, then letting it out on a sigh of release as she closed her eyes.

"Hey…"

Knuckles rapped against her window. Serena jumped, hey eyes flying open. Darien stood outside, hunkered against the driving rain and wind. Twisting the ignition, Serena waved a goodbye at him, but her escape wasn't quite fast enough because he threw open the passenger door and climbed in beside her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"What are _you_ doing?" he answered right back. "You've got something to say, just say it."

"I don't want to talk to you like this."

"You'd rather I was sober."

She could smell the liquor, but more than that she could smell the rain on the shoulders of his damp senim shirt. His hair glistened with droplets and when he shook his head, some of the moisture hit Serena in a soft spray.

Her hands tightened around the wheel. "I've got to get back," she said through tense lips.

"To work? I happen to know the shift's over at Crawfish Delish. And don't tell me you didn't know I own the restaurant."

"I didn't when they hired me."

"But you did before tonight."

Serena shrugged. "Andrew told me."

"Ah…"

She didn't like the way he said that. Too knowing. Too sure of what she all about.

"Is it a problem?" she asked, feeling strained.

"Andrew's still your number-one fan. I remember that. He'd never let anyone say a bad word about you."

"They managed to anyway," Serena murmured lightly.

"I don't care if you work at the restaurant," he said, switching topics. "I don't care if you stay in Crescent Bay for good."

"Well, I'm not."

"But I've got this feeling that I'm in the dark about something important." He brushed his hair back with one hand, his face taut and serious. "Beryl is scared of you for some reason. That doesn't make a whole lot of sense unless there's a reason more than high school." He glanced at her. "Gonna enlighten me?"

She could almost believe he was sober enough to hear the truth. Staring at him, she gathered courage. "There is something I need to talk to you about," she admitted. Her heart began pounding once again, slow and heavy, feeling as if it would beat right out of her chest. "But I'm not sure now's the time."

"That bad, huh?"

"Or that good," she whispered, dry-mouthed.

"So, when is the time?"

"Later. When you're sober and I'm…ready."

"I'm pretty damn sober."

"Not enough."

"You're just not ready," he guessed, his eyes narrowing. The sweep of his lashes against his cheek was too seductive, too appealing. She had to look away.

"I'll call you."

"Will you?"

She nodded.

"When?"

"I think I'll stay until Mina's wedding," Serena said. "So we're got a lot of time."

"Then I'll see you at the wedding," he replied, reopening the door and stepping back into the rain.

"Oh, we'll talk before then," she assured him.

"No." He was positive. Leaning against the frame of the open door, he ducked his head inside to meet her confused gaze. "I'm going out of town. So, now's your chance. What's the big secret?"

There was never going to be a good time, Serena thought with frustration. Might as well just dive in. "All right. I'll just say it. A lot happened between us," she reminded him, searching his eyes.

"We had a relationship," he agreed amiably enough.

"An intense relationship."

"Darien!" Caroline's voice was an unwelcome intrusion. Serena gritted her teeth, inwardly groaning as she spied his fiancé coming down the front steps, and the silhouette of Beryl in the doorway like the overprotective mother she was.

"Say it." Darien urged, frowning in annoyance at Caroline's interference. "Quick!"

"I–– It's–– We had––"

"I'll give you a ride," Caroline declared, reaching earshot just then and spoiling the moment. "I want to talk to you anyway."

In frustration Darien held Serena's gaze. She stared right back, unable to break that fragile contact between them. He seemed about to blow Caroline off, but she heard herself say in a low voice, "I'll see you at the wedding, okay?"

"We'll get it all straight then," Darien agreed, reaching her wavelength.

Serena nodded thoughtfully and as Darien slowly closed the door, she put the car in gear, glancing back in her review mirror at him and Caroline who stood side by side in the rain. It seemed inevitable, somehow, that the truth would come out at a wedding. A wedding on Valentine's day. On Rini's birthday.

How ironic. It added a poignant sting to an already sensitive issue. But somehow it felt right.

* * *

Okay, now you'll be wondering why I'm updating it now, but I just felt slightly guilty for leaving it like that for you.

So I'll try update sometime next week, bit later than my usual day, because of this impromptu update.

Hint here: although next update's won't have the confession, there will be angry words said, and ultimatums and action. =)

So now, please review! I do so like to get the reviews.

And again, don't worry, there will be a (hopefully) worthwhile climax to this story.

Patience is a virtue.


	13. Waiting

Hi people. I meant to update yesterday but I couldn't get in.

So here it is now.

Hope you like it.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**

* * *

**

Valentine's Day was on a Saturday, and Mina's wedding was slated for five o'clock in the afternoon. With Darien out of town and the pressure off, Serena's days sped by in a blur until it was the Friday evening before, with Serena serving shrimp dishes prepared by Merrick; the "chef" –– who, for reasons unknown, decreed her fit to work in his restaurant and who was doing his damndest to get her to stay on, although she'd let him know in no uncertain terms that this would be her last day.

Since that last evening with Darien, she'd been content to just fill in the hours and wait for D-Day. Rini, however, had not been so understanding when Serena called down to the Kentwells to let her know there would be a bit of a delay in meeting her father.

"He's out of town and can't meet you yet," Serena had said truthfully. "And I'm ––uh––reacquainting myself with him, so it's going to take a little more time."

"Next Saturday's my birthday," Rini revealed, sending a shiver up Serena's spine.

"I know," she said softly.

"My mum and dad said I could come to Atlanta if I wanted to. Will you be back by then?"

"I don't––think so." Serena ached to be with her daughter on her birthday, but telling Darien the truth was more crucial. _Maybe next year_, she fantasised. "Your father's the best man in a wedding that day."

That gave Rini a pause, but she recovered quickly. "He doesn't want me in his life, does he?" She said in her direct way. She had a knack for expecting the worst. _Like mother, like daughter,_ Serena thought. _That way it doesn't hurt as much._

"Just because he's busy doesn't mean he doesn't want you," Serena told her.

"What's he like?" Rini suddenly interjected, as if she couldn't help herself.

"He's––great," she answered, struggling. "Strong and decent. He's engaged to a woman we both went to school with." _Now why did I say that?_ Serena asked herself.

"Engaged? You mean to be _married?_ When?"

"I don't know. Sometime soon, I guess."

"Do you like her?"

"Rini!" Serena half laughed in exasperation.

"Well, you knew her in school. What's she like?"

Serena had gazed out her motel window to the grey waves sliding over the darker grey sand. "She'd perfect for him," she said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

And Rini, with a keen sense of awareness that Serena was just beginning to appreciate, stated flatly, "I hate her."

"You don't even know her."

"You don't like her. I can hear it in your voice."

Their communication amazed and thrilled Serena. Having gotten over own initial shock, she'd discovered that she and her daughter talked the same language. It was incredible, and although she knew this was just might be Rini's way, and that she might simply be reacting to her daughter's frankness, Serena truly believed their ability to get past all the rhetoric was because of blood. They were related, mother and daughter, and it mattered.

Whatever happened with Darien, Serena had a chance with Rini now. A chance she'd never really expected as she'd been unable to imagine her dreams actually coming true. She wanted so badly for everything to work out between her and Rini. In her most fanciful moments, she dreamed of them living together as mother and daughter, with Darien at least accepting his daughter at some level. But even if that could never be––for Serena was completely aware that the Kentwells loved her daughter to distraction––she and Rini had the chance for a real relationship.

As long as she handled this Darien thing right.

"When can I see him?" Rini had asked.

"I'm working on it. Soon, I think. Be patient."

She couldn't tell her Darien didn't know about her; that would sever their delicate connection in one second flat! No, better to put Rini off until she told Darien about his daughter.

His daughter…

Serena shivered. Fleetingly, she considered how Darien would react when he realised she and his mother had kept the secret all these years. And she would pay Beryl back every penny of that ten thousand dollars. She should have done it years ago except that she'd always felt it was better to let sleeping dragons lie. But Beryl was awake and breathing fire now, so Serena, who had a decent relationship with the banker, who'd helped put the deal together to buy her share of Lita's restaurant had already set the wheels in motion to get her a loan for the money. She couldn't wait to drop a cashier's check in Beryl's lap––with interest! ––and wash her hands of the whole dirty deal. For her mother, she would do it again, but that didn't make the idea of accepting Shields money any more tolerable.

"Hurry," Rini urged, sounding incredibly young.

"I'll do my best," Serena assured her softly, aching inside. She'd hung up the phone feeling oddly moved. And she realised how badly she wanted to have her child in her life. There was still time. Still a chance…

"You going to stand there daydreaming all day?" Merrick burst into her thoughts, yelling from the bowels of the kitchen.

Serena came to with a start. She'd been standing at the kitchen swing-door, a million miles away. "Oh, stop your bellowing," she teased.

"Come out tonight with me––after the kitchen's closed."

"Forget it, Merrick. I never date co-workers. It's a rule."

"It's a bad rule. We'll go have a drink somewhere."

One of the waiters gave her the "look." Serena had learned during her short employment that Merrick was closing in on alcoholism, amiable drunk that he was, and he used his supposedly volatile temperament as an excuse to go out and throw back a few too many. Although she liked Merrick, she suspected he was not long for employment. He was just too reckless and undependable. Fortunately for him, Darien Shields appeared to be a fairly hands-off employer.

And this was Serena's last day, for tomorrow was the wedding. And afterward…Well, she might have to get out of Dodge fast after she and Darien had it out.

Skin tingling with apprehension, she hurried to serve several plates of Merrick's fabulous shrimp pasta to a young couple holding hands by the front window.

* * *

"Why can't we go together?" Caroline asked, twisting her opal ring on her right finger. It was a gift Darien had given her not long after he'd graduated from college. Blinking, he suddenly couldn't remember what the occasion had been. "What?" Caroline demanded, seeing him stare at her ring.

They were at her condo, a stark glass-and-concrete building jabbed onto the cliffs above the beach, a monstrosity that even Darien had protested against at city council; he preferred the cosy, rambling beachfront dwellings that dotted the coasts. Shields Enterprises might own real estate, might even build and develop them, but Darien had a strict code of aesthetics that other developers did not.

The developer who'd built these condos could have used a lesson in keeping with the beauty of the area. It bugged Darien that Caroline had chosen to live here, of all places; but then he hadn't wanted her to reside in one of his own units, something that he'd never voiced but suspected she'd picked up on.

"Why are you staring at my ring?" she asked again, spots of colour highlighting her cheeks. She was more upset than he'd even seen her, and for the like of him, he couldn't figure out why.

"Was it your birthday? I can't remember what it was."

"What?" She blinked. "You mean, why you gave me the ring? It was our five-year anniversary, Darien!"

Memory flooded. Of course. They'd been dating for five years––if you didn't count the time he was seeing Serena senior year in high school. Caroline had decreed that their anniversary was coming up, and she'd hinted how special it was. He'd picked out the ring between exams one Friday before he came home from college. As he recalled, she'd been slightly disappointed in the gift. Maybe she'd wanted an engagement ring.

He wondered if he should ask her what the date of that "anniversary" was again, looked at her unhappy face and decided not to.

"Why can't we go to the wedding together?" she asked, returning to her theme. "I want to go with you."

"I've got too many things to do first. I've been out of town for a week, and I don't want to go early. Let me meet you there."

"You're the best man! You have to go early."

"I'll get there in time," he assured her.

"What were you doing out of town?" she asked suddenly. "Why all of a sudden?"

"Looking at property on the Oregon coast. I told you," he growled.

"For a week?"

Darien gazed at her in frustration. How could he explain that what had originally been a jaunt––more vacation than business––had become a good excuse to get away and think? And how could he tell her that he'd spent the week running on the beach, or trying to exorcise Serena from his thoughts, scared spit less that upon his return to Crescent Bay, he would find her mysteriously gone, never to return?

Hell, he couldn't even explain it to _himself_.

"I wanted to go with you," she revealed. "My job is demanding, and I don't get to spend enough time with you as it is."

Caroline worked as right-hand woman to the owner of a small, successful electronics firm that had grown too large for its modest roots in Crescent Bay and was now based in Seattle. So far, the owner hadn't asked her to make the move; she spent a lot of her time at trade show and conferences and wasn't in the office anyway. But the company was in the process of hiring a marketing agency and Caroline's job description was sure to change. With that change would come a move to Seattle; the writing was on the wall.

But Caroline wanted to chuck it all and marry Darien.

"I needed some time alone."

"Why?" Her eyes flared with alarm.

"I just did. And I still do," he admitted, not wanting to hurt her but unable to lie.

"Oh, Darien." She swallowed hard.

She couldn't unmask her unhappiness, but Darien was through with trying to make everyone happy and therefore making no one happy. "This isn't working," he said softly. "We both know it."

"It's her. Ever since she came back, you've been different."

"It's mostly us," Darien disagreed. "You and I. There's something missing."

"Something you can get from her?" Caroline asked angrily.

"Caroline––" he began, frustrated.

"No, don't. Don't say it!" she interrupted. "Just go with me tomorrow and everything'll be okay. The weather's supposed to be terrible, for Pete's sake! Rain––possible snow! Cold as the devil. Don't make me drive."

Caroline was normally as independent as a tiger; this sudden insecurity had to be a ploy. And that bugged Darien, too.

"I thought you were catching a ride with Andrew and Rita."

"I want to go with you."

"I'll meet you there!" Darien told her in exasperation. "But don't make me get dressed up sooner than I have to. And I'm leaving right afterward. I hate receptions. I hate weddings!"

"You don't have to yell." She turned away, twisting the ring so hard her skin stretched white before turning red.

"I'm going to work out first," he reminded her, as if that had anything to do with the real root of the argument.

"Do you have to run every day? My God, you spend so much time racing along the beach, people will think you're a fanatic."

"I hardly ever run." Darien gazed at her in amazement.

"You're just never around! I'm tired of being your 'sometime' fiancée! Make me a priority, Darien, or forget it. I can't stand this much longer. I'm so upset I just want to––leave!"

Darien's jaw dropped. This was more passion than he'd ever seen. "Is that an ultimatum?"

She waved her arm, frowned, then shook her head. "I just want to walk through the door of the church with you."

"Oh. Appearances."

She flushed. "Damn you. You think it's so easy for me. Well, I won't be here forever. If you want, yes, this is an ultimatum––you'd better make room for me."

She swept out ahead of him, toward his Jeep. He followed behind her, frustrated and uneasy and wishing _something_ would change.

"I hate this thing!" she suddenly cried, slamming the palm of her hand on the driver's door.

"I love it."

"Can't you just do one thing for me?" she cried. "Just one?"

"What the hell do you want, Caroline?"

"Marriage. I'm sick of waiting. But it's like your feet are stuck in concrete. You won't do anything. You won't change. And Serena's Tsukino's appearance just made things worse. Now you talk like you and I have a problem."

"We do."

"No, it's _you_. It's like you're _waiting_ for something! Well, I've got news for you, it's not coming. And I just can't wait forever."

Yanking open the door of the Jeep, she climbed inside, swishing her long black skirt around her legs. She wore a white silk blouse and a black wool overcoat. Jacketless himself, Darien levered himself behind the wheel, glanced down at his own jeans and navy corduroy shirt, and suddenly realised the incongruousness of their disparate life-styles.

"I can't be what you want, Caroline," he said gesturing to his clothes. "For better or worse, this is it."

"I'll take you as you are," she responded instantly. "But it's got to be soon. You think about that when you're running on the beach tomorrow. When we meet again at the wedding, I want a real commitment, not some phony half-baked engagement. Please," she added, laying a hand on his.

Darien nodded, thinking it was time everything got straightened out. Besides, Serena was going to talk to him tomorrow and Mina and Matt were getting married. It was the perfect day for endings and beginnings.

* * *

So you like??

Next week, there'll be a bit steam. If I can manage it.

As I've said before, the confession will occur.

Be patient. Next week's will be a good one.

Babaiii


	14. Oh Dear

Here you go! Hope you like it!

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

**

* * *

**

Saturday dawned in dark, dank mist. Sheeting rain, followed by hail popping against an already frozen ground, complement ice-crusted pools of rainwater and other treacherous, frozen patches on the highway to make driving a hellish torture.

Serena had brought one nice dress with her, a black double-breasted sheath with white trim. A little sober for a wedding, but she didn't have anything else. She'd almost left it at home. What need was there for a dress in Crescent bay? Now, she smoothed the skirt over her hips and wondered what the hell she was doing.

The wedding was at five. The skies were already leaden and closing to night fast as Serena climbed into her rental and negotiated out of her lot and onto the two-lane toward the church where the nuptials would be held.

She was late––mainly by choice, she decided ruefully, since she was really dreading this affair.

_Therapy, _she reminded herself. The past two weeks in Crescent bay had been good for her, in a way, for she'd found a part of herself she'd locked away and hidden, and it wasn't so bad, after all.

About a mile from the turnoff she spied a sight that set her pulse rocketing. A black Jeep had skidded off the road and it was listing to one side.

"There are tons of black Jeep," she said aloud. "And Darien would already be at the wedding since he's the best man."

But the words were still hanging in the air when she recognised Darien Shields himself standing beside the vehicle. In a black tuxedo and white pleated shirt, he looked incredibly handsome. She saw, then, that his axle was bent.

He glanced up, recognised her, his expression dark as a thundercloud.

"Need a lift?" she asked.

Without a word, he climbed into the passenger seat of her car. "I'm late," he said.

"They'll wait for you."

"I don't want to go."

"You have to go." Serena actually laughed.

"Marriage is a wasted institution. They don't last. They're never happy. Somebody always get hurt."

"What a cynic," she declared, wondering what was eating him. "They never should have made you best man!"

"You got that right," he growled.

"What happened to your car?"

"Daydreaming." He yanked on his bow tie, thought better of it, and glowered at the rain splattering on the windshield. "Be careful, it's a skating rink."

As if hearing him, Serena's compact suddenly jumped over the centre line as if leaping out of her hands. Deftly and gently, she dragged the steering wheel back but she overcompensated and the little car swirled around in a wild cycle, whipping them around until they were facing the way they'd come.

"Oh, my God!" she breathed.

"You okay?" Darien asked, his hands touching her shoulders.

Serena's attention instantly changed to the feel of his hard fingers through the shoulder of her dress. She wore no coat. Her black jacket had seemed too sporty and she'd figured she could run from the car to the church and back again. But now she fervently wished she'd thrown it in the car.

"I'm kind of scared to put my foot to the accelerator again."

"Want me to drive?"

She shot him an amused look. "Because of your skill with the Jeep?"

He grinned, shocking her to her socks because she thought she might have offended him. His dimples did her in, and she found herself unable to tear her gaze from his face. "I am not going to make this wedding," he said, more relaxed now.

"Yes, you are."

She threw the car into reverse and slowly touched the gas. The rear end of the car suddenly ran for the ditch as if it were in a race. The next thing Serena knew they were staring up the slope of the shoulder, her headlights tilted skyward toward an unforgiving sky, the engine humming and tires churning as her foot had slammed on the accelerator instead of the brake.

She released the gas and the car slid backward, idly as contented as a friendly, panting dog, waiting for his next command.

"You are not going to make this wedding," she said on a sigh.

Darien broke into laughter, and after a moment, Serena followed suit. They laughed until tears blurred her vision, and when she wiped them away she turned to look at him, and the look his face made her stomach flip.

"I promised Caroline I wouldn't talk to you," he said into the uncomfortable moment that followed.

"What?"

"She didn't want me to talk to you, but it was a promise I couldn't keep."

"Why didn't she want you to talk to me?" Serena asked, her heart pounding heavily.

Darien stared out the window into the gathering gloom. Running his hand through his hair, he drew a deep breath. "We're going to have to walk," was his ambiguous answer. "Here."

He extended a hand, helping her from the car. Serena felt his cools fingers clasp her sweating palm, but that was the least of her worries. Wet, slapping weeds attacked her nylon stockings and she felt the fabric snag and run up the side of her leg as she worked her way to the edge of the road.

Darien's hand was still close by, hovering somewhere around the small of her back in case she should lose her balance. Serena was too concerned with keeping her footing to be unnerved by his closeness, and anyway, she was beginning to accept and relax around him a bit.

_Face it. You like it!_

They slogged through the rain in the direction of the church, their conversation concerned with their predicament. By the time the front steps of the little clapboard building with picturesque spire were in their sight, Serena and Darien were both drenched to the skin, their teeth chattering.

From inside, organ music boomed outward, mixing with the pattering rain. The sound was mournful and powerful in the fading light, resonating inside Serena in a way that made heel short of breath.

"My kingdom for a shot of brandy," Darien muttered, clasping her elbow and leading her up the steps. He grabbed the front-door handle, twisted, opened the door a crack and groaned.

"What?"

"Come around to the side." Her hand still tightly within his, Darien urged her around the porch toward a side door. "They're all in there, waiting. And they're dry!"

Serena grinned, but her mouth was too cold to do more than grimace. "I can't feel anything."

"Hurry."

He ushered her through the side door, which led to a small hallway used as a means to enter the back room behind the altar. The door closed with a sigh behind them and it was dark, but dry. Music swelled, filling her head. Serena gingerly reached forward into the suffocating darkness, her fingers finding the wall. "I should be out there with the crowd," she murmured.

"Can you feel anything yet?"

"Just the wall."

"No, I mean, on your body. Have you got any feeling back?"

His breath blew hot against her wet hair. "Not much," she admitted, a frisson slipping down her spine.

"Do you remember the rain on the tree house?" he asked suddenly, unexpectedly.

Serena didn't know how to answer. She could hear his even breathing and as time passed, her eyes began to adjust to the dim light. There was light beneath a doorway at the end of the hall, but Darien, standing beside her, seemed tall and huge and inordinately male. "Yes." She whispered.

The music rose to a crescendo, then faded away. A woman's voice, pure and sweet, took its place as she sang a hymn of joy.

And Darien did the unthinkable. He leaned forward, his right hand softly groping along the slant of her jaw. Serena shrank backward, but it was no use. Darien's mouth touched down on hers, as cool as silk. Startled, Serena gasped, her breasts lifting to brush lightly against his chest.

His tongue sought hers, softly, questioningly. Serena stood immobile. She hadn't kissed a man in years and never with the same passion with which she'd once kissed Darien. She couldn't have this, but she wanted it, she realised vaguely. Wanted it so badly it was all she could do to keep from wrapping herself around him in the intimate little hallway.

Slowly, agonisingly slowly, he drew back. His breath framed her face, uneven and warm. The singer's voice reached a peak, ran back down the scale, then returned to another high. Serena ached for Darien to kiss her again. Her lips remained parted. Desire danced in her head.

"You taste like rain," his voiced murmured.

"So do you." She replied huskily.

"I want to see you," he stated harshly, as if he were mad at himself for the admission. "While you're here," he said. "I want to see you."

He kissed her again before she could protest, turning her knees to water. His lips claimed hers completely; his tongue exploring her depths. And her tongue responded, eager to welcome the intrusion. Her hands climbed over shoulders, her wanton body quivered. He pulled her close, moulding her to him, his mouth possessing hers. His wet, hard body held against hers, and her wet dress, thin and soaked from the rain melted into each delectable contour of his stature.

The chilliness of the rain-soaked clothing and searing, intense atmosphere created a friction filled air. Darien's against hers in this caused a delightful, sensual sensation. Serena moaned low in her throat, unable to stop herself.

"After the wedding," she whispered when his lips relinquished hers to travel along her jaw line.

For an answer, he reluctantly set her away from him, then his hand held hers tightly as he led her the rest of the way down the hallway and into the lighted rooms behind the door.

* * *

She didn't remember the wedding ceremony. She sat in the back row, wet and silent, but inside she was heated by her own churning thoughts. Mina and the rest of her wedding party had greeted her and Darien's arrival with cries of worry and surprise, then she'd been bustled to a rest room and was towelled off by, of all people, Raye, who'd appeared to be expecting a girl, from what she says, and happy.

"Still with Darien!" she declared, rubbing down Serena's hair. "My God, I thought you'd escaped this dreary hamlet."

Serena couldn't explain. There was no time. She was hustled right out again and directed back to the dark hallway, then outside onto the covered porch and finally through the front door to sneak into a peek at the rear of the church.

Darien appeared moments later with the other groomsman, his hair still wet but combed into place. His suit was soaked, however, and the crowd murmured in amusement as he stood near the altar, his back to the audience.

Mina made a beautiful bride. Her hair bound up and adorned with tiny white flowers; her dress a flowing, lacy cape with a long train. Red tulips and roses abounded. Valentine's Day.

With a jolt Serena realised that Darien had kissed her on Valentine's Day. Coincidence. Symmetry.

Her gaze was reserved for only him. Throughout the ceremony it was his broad shoulders Serena watched; the back of his black hair, the hem of his waterlogged jacket. It was there––this _thing_ she had for him––alive and beating still. One kiss and she remembered all those luscious feelings from high school. It was like an addictive drug, dangerous and upsetting and wrong, yet tempting beyond belief.

It was why she was here. _No!_ she reminded herself. She was here for Rini. Only Rini. Darien hadn't loved her when she was seventeen; he didn't love her now.

And he would hate her when he learned the truth.

Shivering, she closed her eyes. Emotions swarmed, scorching her like hot lave. _I want him._

How could this be? Serena couldn't credit it. For years she'd felt nothing for any male but friendship, or contempt, or just general lack of interest. Her customers at Lita's restaurant had earned her friendship; over-ardent admirers her contempt; and the rest of the lot, her general lack of interest. She'd done nothing––_nada_––to encourage any man, and the few kisses she'd received since Darien had been stolen ones from an over persistent date who had felt it was payment for services rendered.

She'd begun to wonder if her sex drive was tepid at best. High school didn't count, she told herself on a regular basis. One was too young at sixteen, seventeen and eighteen to make those decisions. It was all wrapped up in anxiety, anyway; worrying about popularity and who was cool and all that claptrap she'd disdained ever since.

Now she realised she'd been kidding herself. Those feelings _had_ been real. They were here now. They'd just been hiding beneath her skin, biding their time, waiting to leap out and expose themselves.

But _Darien?_ He was the last person in the world she should want. Not now! Not when she'd gotten her life together. Not when Rini had resurfaced and there was a chance for them to be a real mother and daughter.

Was that it? Serena asked herself, delving painfully into her own soul. Was it thinking that they could be a _family _that had brought this on?

"You're not that stupid." She whispered.

"Pardon?" The woman in the wide royal blue hat sitting next to Serena peered at her from beneath the oval brim.

"Talking to myself," Serena assured her, throwing a glance at Darien's wide shoulders and slim hips. She could practically feel the blood rushing lightly through her veins.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the woman said in an aside.

"Mmm." Serena's gaze wandered to Mina and she forced herself to think about her friend instead of her own problems. What would it be like to embark on your own marriage? To plan to share your life with the man you loved?

Tempting thoughts. Ridiculous thoughts. Dangerous thoughts.

As soon as the ceremony was over the wedding party gathered for pictures. Standing toward the back of the church, Serena could still hear the amused laughter and comments about Darien's wet tuxedo. But Mina, true to form, merely urged everyone into place and proceeded as if the fact the best man was dripping puddles everywhere was of no consequence, which it wasn't. "Something to tell the kids," Mina said with a dismissive wave of her hand, her face glowing with rapture. Nothing could spoil her day.

A pang of something like jealousy filled Serena's breast and she glanced away, wondering if she should skip out. But Raye was here, and nostalgia was like a long beckoning finger, drawing Serena forward even while she wanted to melt into the woodwork.

She was as bedraggled as Darien; worse, really. Lank, wet tendrils of hair was sticking to her neck. Glancing down, she could see her nipples standing at attention through the black sheath. Shivering a little, she crossed her arms.

"The reception's downstairs," Andrew said, near her ear.

Startled, Serena turned, glimpsed Rita's closed face, then smiled a thank-you at her friend. "I'll be right down."

"We're all going over to Mina's parent's place afterward," he added. "Ya coming?"

"Uh… I don't know."

"If ya don't, Mina and Raye will send a posse," Andrew predicted.

"We'll see," was her noncommittal answer.

"There's Caroline!" Rita interjected, leaving her husband's side to meet the cool brunette in the taupe silk dress. What was it about her? Serena mused to herself. Caroline had always possessed that same touch-me-not look, and now, years out of high school, it seemed a hundred times worse.

The memory of Darien's hot kiss swept over Serena again, a wave of excitement that left her slightly breathless. Did he kiss Caroline the same way? Did Caroline possess these _feelings?_

Rita and Caroline stood in the centre aisle as the church emptied toward the stairways on either side of the main altar. Serena edged her way to the side aisle and walked quickly downstairs, her skin prickling as she imagined the two women watching her departure.

_A cup of punch and I'm out of here._

"Serena!" Raye caught sight of her just as she reached the stairs. "Wait for me!"

"Sure," Serena agreed. Her eyes meet Darien's for one brief millisecond, but it was enough to send her pulse skyrocketing. She knew he was thinking about the kiss, too; she could read it in his tense, passionate expression.

Inwardly groaning, she took a deep breath and fought hard to tamp down these feelings––feelings she shouldn't have for Caroline Newsmith's fiancé. Feelings she couldn't have––period.

Downstairs, she suffered through endless small talk until the wedding party joined the group. The ritual cake-cutting and reception line felt like an excruciating wait. Twisting the handle on her cup of punch and trying, unsuccessfully, to look inconspicuous, she nearly choked when Darien detached himself from the group and walked straight toward her.

"Mark's got studded tires. He said he'd drop us off at my place and we can figure out how to rescue our cars."

"Shouldn't we wait by the cars?" Serena suggested.

"And freeze to death?"

"What about––Caroline?"

"What about her?"

Serena shot him a cool look.

"She came by cab, and she's going back with Andrew and Rita." Darien clearly didn't want to talk about her. It bothered Serena deeply, because she felt that old, familiar sensation of somehow being the "other woman," the secret affair, the "not good enough" girl.

But who was she kidding? She needed time along with him to have their "talk," and this was her opportunity. What Caroline would think of it was not Serena's problem. As soon as Darien learned he had a daughter that no one would give a damn about who'd left him with who, anyway.

"All right," Serena murmured with a taut swallow.

He nodded a goodbye then, to return to his best man duties. At the same moment Raye grabbed her arm and Serena was introduced to her husband and two bright, raven-haired children. One, a boy, was just a few years younger than Rini. His grin was huge and he shook Serena's hand vehemently, as if the harder the shake, the better the greeting. Raye's little daughter had no front teeth, and she smiled as widely as her brother. A pang shot through Serena as she thought about Rini's sober, almost-angry persona.

_But I have a chance now to make things better for. A real chance._

"So, what's the deal with you and Darien?" Raye asked.

"What do you mean?"

"He can't take his eyes off you, and you're just as bad."

"What?" Serena inwardly squirmed with embarrassment.

"Oh, come on. Clue me in. I've only got a few hours to catch up on all this stuff, then we've gotta hit the road for home. I deserve the whole dirt!"

"There is no dirt."

"Oh, right. You just happened to appear back in town a few weeks before Mina's wedding, looking like a million bucks, I might add. Except you're kinda wet right now," she added humorously. "But something's up. Is it Darien? Still?"

"I haven't seen him since high school."

"Well, he can't help staring at you every free moment. See that? He's looking out of the corner of his eye."

"Oh, stop!" Serena half laughed.

"Everybody's thinking it. I just say it."

"I came to town to set some things right," Serena told her, picking her words carefully. "One of those things that needed to be set right had to do with Darien."

"Hmm." Ray e looked thoughtful. "I always thought you really loved him."

"I was a teenager, for heaven's sake!"

"Doesn't matter. Do you know the things we find attractive in a person never change? I read this article about it. The reasons you're drawn to someone are the same throughout your life. So it stands to reason that someone you loved in high school is someone you're still going to love when you're older."

"High school romances don't last." Serena was blunt.

"Some do."

"People mature. They change. It doesn't last."

"Who're you trying to convince? Me?"

"I know I was attracted to Darien because he was such a big deal. Mr. Quarterback, Mr. Popularity, Mr. Everything. I was shallow, I admit it."

Raye threw her head back and laughed, surprising Serena. Eyes twinkling, Raye declared, "That wasn't why you liked him. You liked him _in spite_ of all that! Good grief, Serena, this is Raye you're talking to. I _know_ you."

Serena was about to refute everything she'd said but the words shrivelled in her throat when Caroline suddenly broke from her tight groups of friends and approached Raye. Serena stepped slightly away, but it was Serena Caroline apparently had come to talk to because she ignored Raye completely, her clear brown eyes cautious but determined. Raye's black brows lifted and she gave Serena a "Can you believe this?" look from behind Caroline's right shoulder.

"I didn't really get a chance to talk to you the other day," Caroline began. "It's been such a long time."

"Years," Serena agreed.

"I think having you around has thrown Beryl for a loop," Caroline said, smiling. "But she's always overreacted where Darien's concerned."

Serena wasn't certain what she was supposed to say to this.

"I tried to assure her that this was high school, and there's no need to worry so much. Darien's a man now. He makes his own decisions."

Serena nodded, wondering where this was going.

"So, how is it, working at Crawfish Delish?" Caroline asked, apparently not as focused as Serena had originally thought.

"Yesterday was my last day."

"Oh?" She looked surprised. "Didn't it work out?"

"It was fine. It's just that I'm almost ready to leave Crescent Bay." Serena didn't want to talk to her. Caroline's comment about Beryl had turned up her stress level, reminding Serena how tenuous her relationship with Darien was––and how she foolishly wanted it to be stronger.

"You make it sound like you have an agenda." Caroline lightly touched her lips with her fingertips. Did she know about Rini now? Serena wondered. Had Beryl have done it without throwing herself in a bad light?

'I've got to straighten some things out, then I'm history."

"With Darien?" Caroline asked quickly.

"Uh…yeah," she admitted, tired of all the deception. Caroline's expression changed to one of anxiety if not out-and-out fear. Serena almost felt sorry for her.

Out of Caroline's range, Raye cleared her throat and started signalling Serena frantically. But it was too late. From somewhere behind Serena's right shoulder, Darien's familiar voice drawled, "So, are you ready to go get our cars?"

"Cars?" Caroline asked, thinking he was talking to her.

"Serena and I each drove off the road trying to get here," Darien explained. "That's why we're wet through. Matt's ready to take us before he goes to Mina's parent's house for the reception. Unless you wanted to go there first…?"

"No," Serena said instantly, as Caroline drew a sharp breath.

"Well, I'll see you at the reception later, then," Caroline told him in a voice that brooked no argument, but the look on Darien's face suggested she might not see him there at all.

* * *

So tired...I hope you found it to your liking.

As always, please review!

Again updates are next week.

Byeeeee ;)


	15. Lucky

Here, happy now? The chapter has arrived!

Honestly I'm amazed I got it out cos I'm swamped with tests and assessments.

=.=

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

**

* * *

**

In the front seat of the tow truck, the radio blasting away as the driver whistled tunelessly, Serena gazed her eyes to the companion tow truck leading the way, the one that had dragged Darien's car from the ditch and would be hauling it into town. Matt had driven her and Darien to their vehicles to wait for the two trucks, and now the drivers were taking them to Darien's condo before hauling their cars to the auto-body shop.

Through the truck's rear window, Serena could see Darien's shoulders and the back of his head. She knew without a doubt that neither of them would make the reception. This was the time for her revelation.

As the two trucks and their sad-looking fender mangled cargo headed toward Darien's beach condominium, Serena made another decision: no more kisses; no more fleeting dreams; no more nostalgia.

Just the truth. It was all she could afford to give.

But once she and Darien were both unloaded and the twin trucks headed away, she found she was as tongue-tied as when he had confronted her at the wedding reception.

"You look like you could use a drink," he said thoughtfully, leading the way inside.

She walked on legs that felt like water as she followed him through the front door and down a short, black-tiled hall to a room with thick cream carpet and a wood-beamed ceiling. A river-rock fireplace climbed up one wall and Japanese glass floats in shades of aquamarine and royal blue filled a wicker basket on the hearth. Treasures from Darien's youth, Serena thought with a pang. She walked straight to them and cradled one between her palms.

Her heart beat heavily. She heard the click of a bottle against glass and then Darien was offering a goblet of dark red burgundy that glinted seductively in the soft lamp light.

Serena reluctantly accepted the drink, took a swallow, then held her breath for as long as she could. Darien stood nearby, neither moving away nor coming any closer. With an effort, she lifted her chin.

"I've got some things to say. Some _thing_ to say." She corrected herself.

He wasn't listening. He was gazing out the back windows toward the silvery stretch of beach and the ebony wave cresting against the sand, their frothy edges sliding forward, then slowly receding.

"I feel like I'm in a dream," he said, his voice sounding as if he found the idea slightly confusing.

"How so?" she asked, sipping the wine.

"I don't feel like I'm thirty-three and that it's been almost fifteen years since graduation. I especially don't feel that way now––because you're here."

"I represent high school to you?"

He thought about that a moment, shrugged and nodded. "In a way. It just feels like everything stopped."

"Stopped?"

"Maybe not for you, but, well, look at me. I slid into the family business and I never wanted to. I didn't _not_ want to enough, I guess," he added with characteristic honesty. "And I've resented the hell out of my mother and Caroline ever since. God, my mother…!" In a gesture of frustration, he ripped off his bow tie and tuxedo jacket, flinging them across a chair. The white shirt looked cool and seductive against his dark flesh, and unwillingly, Serena's eyes feasted on him.

"She's been crazy since you got back to town. I always thought she was over the top on a few things, but now she's way over."

Serena fingers clung tightly to the stem of her wineglass. "Really."

"She's been grilling me like I'm sixteen again."

"About me?" She took a long swallow of wine, fighting the tiny tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.

"Well…yeah, as a matter of fact," he said, shaking his head as if he were completely to sea, which in fact, he was. "I swear, it's like recitation. 'Did you see her? What did you talk about? What did she say?' It's nuts!"

Serena could imagine well. Beryl knew she going to tell Darien about Rini and that meant revealing Beryl's involvement. Serena had half expected Darien's mum to beat her to the punch and direct all the blame to her somehow, but there was really no way to do that without revealing her own duplicity––something Beryl was undoubtedly loath to do.

"But that's her problem. My problem is that I've never moved on. Just stayed in the same rut, waiting for something to happen." His gaze shifted to her face, making Serena feel suddenly vulnerable and transparent. "Well, something has."

"What?" she asked a trifle breathlessly.

He didn't answer and Serena was forced to look away first. Complications. The situation was intensive with them! But, oh, it felt good to see the yearning in his eyes, the same yearning she felt.

"Caroline told me not to see you. She made me promise," he added ironically. "Now, I know why."

"Darien, this is getting away from what I want to say," Serena began, but he cut her off.

"You know, I always blamed you for throwing me off track, so that I ended up here, wasting my life."

"You haven't wasted your life."

"The hell I haven't. I chose the path of least resistance. Isn't that wasting it? You were right, back in high school. The silver spoon was so far down my throat I let it choke me."

"I never said that," Serena muttered uncertainly.

"You didn't have to. I always knew what you thought of me––deep down. All those sarcastic remarks. You wanted me to recognise how full of crap I was. So self-important. And I wanted to do was…" He hesitated, inwardly struggling. With a deprecatory snort, he finished, "All I wanted to do was sleep with you."

Silence pooled in the warm room. His honestly cut like a knife. Serena stood speechless, weakened by those simple words. Gazing at his familiar face, she unknowingly let every feeling she possessed flood her features.

_I want you, _she thought, her pulse beating hard and ever faster._ I love you._

"Don't look at me like that," he whispered, "I don't have the strength to resist, and you didn't come here for this."

"I came to tell you something important," Serena responded, her gaze sliding to his mouth.

"Tell me."

"When we were together…"

"In high school," he prompted.

"Yes. In high school." She swallowed. "I loved you very much," she said in a small voice.

"I loved you, too." He answered.

"And––" Shock registered in every fibre of her being. The words had come so naturally, so perfectly. Unrehearsed. From the soul and heart of him.

Her lips parted. Naked emotion filled her eyes. Darien was powerless against her and with a muffled oath, he took two ground-devouring steps toward her and gathered her close, burying his face in the tangled glory of her hair.

"_I always loved you!_" he grated harshly. "_I still do!_"

* * *

If there had ever been a time in Darien's life when he needed self-control, this was it. All day. Hell, all week, month––whatever it had been since Serena had re-entered his life––he'd denied and fought feelings that wouldn't do him any good. And now she stood before him in innocent splendour. Truth be told, he'd been unable to look at any other woman at the church––even the bride! ––and all he could think about was their kiss in the darkened back hallway.

_I love you_ had slipped past his lips as naturally as daybreak. He did love her. He always had. Her distraction only added to her mystique. Whatever mission she was on, whatever secrets and decisions she wanted to reveal, he didn't give a damn. Recklessly, foolishly he only wanted to take her in his arms and kiss and caress her until the hot beat of desire was assuaged.

"Darien…" she murmured in soft protest.

And even that stoked the flame of his overheated senses. Memories. Lustful, passionate memories of a careless, reckless time. She was the only person who could get away with calling his name and bring him into a flurry of emotions.

Her uncertainty was an aphrodisiac. He could feel the beat of her heart and the uneven tenor of her breathing. Darien inwardly groaned, wanting, _needing_ to passionately join himself to her. But this was not the time. Not while something hung on her mind and prevented her from feeling every emotion he was feeling.

Carefully he released her from his urgent hug. She gazed at him, but her eyes had a faraway look, almost as if she were in a dream. He could relate. It _was_ a dream. One he never wanted to wake up from.

Gently he took her drink away from her and set it on the mantel. Serena's lips quivered, as if she wanted to say something. Darien waited, watching her with eyes that devoured the sight of her. Something in his expression must have registered with Serena. Reaching a kindred spirit within her, for she seemed to melt in front of him, all womanly armour falling away with a word spoken.

He reached for her, holding her at arm's length for a moment as he studied her.

"Do you want me?" he muttered. "Damn, I want you!"

Her answer was a soft exhalation of breath. Slowly, inexorably, he pulled her to him again. She didn't quite resist, but she didn't quite come willingly, either.

Her palms were pressed against his chest. She couldn't miss his galloping heart. She looked down, at her hands, as if surprised at the feeling beneath them. He saw her eyelashes flutter. It was too much.

"Serena," he whispered, bending his head until his lips were near the soft, escaping tendrils of thick blonde hair that swung like a curtain to her waist.

"I…don't…can't," she struggled.

She turned her head but not before his lips grazed the corners of her mouth. His own body's reaction was unmistakeable and suddenly he wanted her to feel his member, to know what she was doing to him. It seemed incredibly important; or maybe lust was making him crazy. He certainly felt crazy.

His hands crept down her back to the curve of her spine. He wanted to grab her rounded bottom and press her against him. She was a perfect fit. She'd always been a perfect fit. It had just taken years for him to understand it. Hell, he still didn't understand it yet!

As if his thoughts, not his conscience, controlled him, he did as he wanted, letting his palms slide over the delicious curve of her hips. His mouth crushed hers at the same moment he pulled her to his hardness and her slight protest was more a meow of pleasure––at least to his biased ears and inflamed senses.

Her own hands betrayed her, fluttering ineffectually somewhere near his waist, then softly pressing against his chest, then crawling hip his back to clutch the fabric of his shirt between damp fists.

Memories were long gone. The moment was now. His tongue slid into her mouth, hot and seeking. Almost afraid, she reacted by sucking gently. Emboldened, he held as tightly as he could, melding her to him possessively. She made no protest now. Her legs separated to accommodate him. Darien groaned, masochistically refusing to take advantage of the moment and press her against the wall to relieve the ache between his thighs.

"I want you," he admitted thickly, against her hot humid breath.

It was redundant, he realised. She had to know. She hesitated, inhaling light and fast, her chest rising and falling against his in rapid succession. His hand crept upward to cup her breast, just as lightly, which sent her breathing into warp zone. She wore no bra. He could feel her raised nipple through the weak shield of fabric. Darien, drunk with desire, leaned down and sucked her breast through the black dress, eliciting a groan of pleasure from Serena that sounded like sweet torture as she threw her head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of her throat.

"I can't," she whispered, holding onto him for dear life as if afraid he might actually heed her words.

"You want to."

"Oh, Darien…" Serena's eyes were squeezed closed, her expression one of intense need. Her hands had found the back of his neck.

With no thought for anything but how he felt at the moment, Darien swept her into his arms, luxuriating in her warm flesh, wanting to devour her as if she were some sweet delicacy he'd been long denied. Vaguely he realised he hadn't been this hot since high school––a situation that mildly worried him in some dark, neglected recess of his mind.

"What––what are you doing?" Serena asked in alarm.

"Taking you upstairs."

This was trickier than he'd thought, considering the stairway was narrow with a carved wooden rail leading from the tiled entry below and Serena was fast becoming an adversary instead of co-conspirator.

"I can't," she said in a louder, more controlled voice, all the while clinging to his neck while Dairen, fuelled by potent ardour, determinedly made his way around the landing and up to the bedroom loft.

"I can't! Oh, mercy. Put me down. Darien, for goodness' sake, this isn't the tree house and we aren't teenagers!"

He set her on her feet in the middle of the room. Now her hand was at her throat and she darted looks around the room like a scared rabbit. Watching her, he read her reaction as her eyes noted the smooth pine walls, recessed lighting, huge braided rug that nearly covered the wooden floor, and the massive king-size bed with its deep, forest-green spread and collection of decorative throw pillows.

"I know it's not the tree house," he snapped.

"I don't just go to bed with men. It's not––what I do."

"I don't just go to bed with women, either."

"You––you have Caroline." Her distraction merely flamed the flames of his desire. She was beautiful, silvery-blonde hair flowing loosely around her waist, shadowed eyes seeking some escape while pride rooted her firmly to the floor. She wouldn't run, although she wanted to.

"We're not engaged," Darien stated flatly. "We're just…together."

"You don't sleep with her?"

Darien hesitated. "Not much," he admitted, the truth tough for him admit aloud. But Serena clearly didn't believe him. Her expression took on that superior look he remembered so vividly form high school.

"I didn't ask for quantity."

"You don't know a damn thing about it!" he declared with heat, tired of the hypocrisy.

"You're not engaged and you don't sleep with her––much. Maybe it's because you're so damned good at seduction." She gestured to herself. "Case in point!"

"I have not slept with any woman but Caroline for almost a decade. And I couldn't tell you the last time I slept with her!"

Serena stared at him, registering the hammering honesty of his words with silence.

"But I want to sleep with you," he admitted. "I have since the moment I saw you outside the gates. Hell, maybe even before that. I've got my fantasies like anyone else. You were the girl who made love to me, then ran away. I've lain awake nights wondering it would be like to have you again, then I've spent my daylight hours pretending I never, ever thought of you. Sometimes I almost convinced myself."

Serena swallowed. "Because I was the one that got away. The only one who couldn't resist you.

It was a questions. A hope? Or maybe a worry. Darien didn't care. He was only interested in the truth and making love to her. "The only one _I_ couldn't resist," he corrected softly. "I want to make love to you so bad it hurts. I love you, Serena. I always have."

Tense fingers raked through her hair. She shook her head vehemently. "You can't seduce me with words. I won't let you!" Terror ran like a river beneath her words.

"What it so wrong with taking up where we left off?"

"It's been fifteen years!"

"Who the hell cares?" he demanded frustratedly.

"I do! I'm not a kid anymore. I'm a woman, with responsibilities."

"Coulda damn well fooled me! You've been here what? Weeks now, with no sign of returning to this other life you talk about! You took a job at Crawfish––_my_ restaurant––and you've jumped back into my life. What are these other responsibilities? No, don't answer." Darien finished, crossing to where she stood once more, taking her trembling hands within his. "I don't care. I don't want to talk."

"Darien," she protested with a sigh, "I have to talk."

"Then talk," he murmured, ducking his head to capture her lips one more time as he gently pushed her backward to the end of the bed. Her knees buckled and she slid onto the green comforter, with Darien fitting himself atop her. "I'll do the rest…"

* * *

Serena's senses were aflame. Hot as lava. Sensitive as a new blossom. This wasn't the way she'd planned things. _Oh, be honest,_ she berated herself ruefully. _You didn't plan things! You just let them happen._

And let them happen she did. From the moment she'd kissed Darien at the church, those things she hadn't planned began springing up like uncovered popcorn, flying at her wildly with no advance warning.

And now Darien's mouth was sensuously rubbing hers until her lips felt swollen and sensitised, begging for more. His body lay on hers in a position of intense intimacy, as if he were meant to be there.

_He'd said_ I love you!

She moaned and twisted with desire beneath him. Her fingers skittered up his back to cling at hard, muscled shoulders. Her body pushed up, flush against flush, eliciting another low moan, from both of them.

The little sighs that followed from her lips were an invitation; she could hear _that_ even above the furious pounding of her heart in her ears. It would so easy to make love to him. The thrust of his manhood between her legs was an irresistible invitation, and without thinking, she moved to accommodate him.

Worse that when she was a teenager. Much worse. Her own desire humbled her. She was putty. _Putty!_ And no amount of berating herself seemed to matter.

Slowly, slowly, he was seducing her. Touching her, breathing in her ear, moving sinuously again her. Rubbing her arms, breast, waist… But even so he was waiting––waiting for her to make that final decision, holding back until she was completely, utterly ready.

"I love you," she murmured, shocked that she'd actually voiced the words she'd said only to him.

His answer was a kiss full of promise and a groan of release. His lips travelled to her neck where his tongue made crazy circles that fuelled her desire until she was limp and throbbing. She sighed in sorrow for she knew it wasn't going to last; she couldn't let it last.

He was moving against her. "I missed you," he murmured. "I missed you so much." His hips moved, gyrating hers, created sparks of something more.

"Darien…" her voice was husky and filled with pent up passion.

"I know it's crazy. It's always been crazy. I feel like I've been living in purgatory for _so long._" His breath feathered her flesh as he kissed her throat, her chin, her mouth, her eyes. And all the while his body moved hard and seductive in a way that left her powerless, weak and wanton.

He was so masculine and she'd shied away from men ever since her ill-fated affair with him. Now she wanted to indulge herself like a glutton. She pulled his errant mouth back to hers and plunged her tongue inside. His groan sent shivers down her spine, infusing her with new power.

She wanted to be possessed by him. His kiss hardened and lengthened, thrilling her, seducing her with its own need. He thrust against her and she arched, glorying in his hardness, making them both aware how slight a barrier their clothing was, how quickly it could be shed.

And putting that though to action, Darien suddenly twisted away to remove the rest of his clothes. The tiny buttons on his shirt gave war beneath anxious fingers, hers and his, and when his chest was bare, she slid her fingers through the dark, crisp hairs and over the sculpted muscles. His groan was barely contained and low and sent heat all the way down Serena's body.

He unbuttoned her dress and slid it from her shoulders. As soon as her chest was free, his tongue moistened the flesh at the base of her neck until she squirmed with desire. In retaliation, she drew her fingers and circled them around his nipples. He shivered and Serena could see his darkened eyes travel along her bared length and returned her gaze a look of promise.

Lying beneath him, she was sure her hair was in a mess from his roving fingers and her dress was beyond repair from wrinkles, but she didn't care. In a state of utter powerlessness, she anticipated his next actions. In slow motion, she felt him undress her and only when a cool stirring of air brought goose bumps to her skin did her long-sleeping conscience awaken.

"Darien," she whispered. And when that elicited no response apart from a movement of his mouth to her nipples that left her shivering , she said a bit louder, "Darien."

It finally got through to his pounding ears. He lifted his head, gazing at her with passion-drugged eyes.

"I can't let this happen, without telling you why I left Crescent Bay before."

"Oh, Serena," he whispered. "It doesn't matter now that you're here."

"It does matter."

As if he refused to recognise the ill wind that swept over them, he redoubled his efforts to make love to her. Serena struggled to find her words, struggled to keep focused on Rini and her real reason for coming home.

But suddenly he was poised above her, the tip of his shaft seeking her warm sheath, she knew, without a doubt that he would hate her for not telling him first; that he would feel used.

But she also knew this wouldn't happen again unless she let it happen now.

"I love you," she whispered, gasping as Darien thrust himself inside her and they both began to thrust against each other. With every groan and pant, Darien plunged himself deeper and deeper into Serena. As she felt the force and heat in her nether regions build to a crown height, Serena felt her heart falling away from her and into Darien's hands.

Both surrendered to the rhythm of love and seduction, the moment spinning out of time and space, gone from reality. When she felt the pinnacle of her ecstasy, she cried out Darien's name in a mix of glorious revelation and entreaty.

Both laid spent in the aftermath.

* * *

In the darkness that followed, Serena counted her heartbeats, waiting until they were at a normal enough pace that she could trust herself to speak with reason. Darien was sprawled across her, in total abandonment to pure sensation.

"Birth control was never my strong suit," she whispered with the deepest irony.

He lifted his head, eyes flaring in alarm. "God, a condom!"

"No, it's okay. I'm not completely crazy. I won't get pregnant at this point of my cycle. I have learned one or two things over the years."

He expelled a breath, gently disengaging himself from her but holding her tightly, his arms and legs surrounding her as if he never wanted to let go. "Apparently, I haven't. We've been really lucky," he added thoughtfully.

Serena drew a breath. "Yes, we have. Really lucky."

Her tension transmitted itself to him. "What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, Darien. It's what I came to Crescent Bay to tell you. We _were_ lucky. Lucky enough to have a beautiful daughter."

His blue eyes held hers, confused.

Her eyes were shining, "I was pregnant, Darien. With your baby. That's why I didn't make it to graduation!"

* * *

So what do you think? Not much chapters left.

Lemony enough? Was if effective?

Review please and let me know!

Byee


	16. Revelations

You know, this has been one of the only things that has been my escapism. I've got tests galore, finished 3, got another 3 left.

And all I've been doing is procrastinating and studying...

But here it is, I know more than a few of you will finally be happy to see Darien's thoughts on the matter.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

**

* * *

**

Sand squeaked protestingly beneath his running shoes––a rhythmic, familiar noise that normally blended with the dull roar of the waves and the plaintive cries of the gulls. Today, however, he was so self-absorbed he heard nothing but the echo of Serena's shocking announcement.

_I was pregnant, Darien. With your baby._

He'd called his sister, Amara, at four o'clock this morning, as soon as he'd woken, which was a laugh because he'd never fallen asleep. Serena's words hadn't really penetrated for what had felt like eons. He could visualise her flushed face, the sparkle of unshed tears in her blue eyes, the rosy blush of her exposed flesh, last remnants of their lovemaking.

He'd backed away. He'd been doused with ice water. He hadn't heard right. It was a joke. A cosmic prank.

He'd spent so much time congratulating himself on not, "knocking up" Serena Tsukino, as his friends so eloquently put it. And he'd been so proud of the fact that he wasn't like his father––Daniel, with his philandering ways and lack of responsibility; Daniel, who'd cared only about football and himself, and not necessarily in that order…

Amara had been surprisingly empathetic. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. Take it from the here and now. But you'd better ask yourself what she wants."

"What do you mean?" His head crashed as if he were recovering from an alcoholic binge.

"Well, everyone's got a personal agenda. It must not be money, or she would have hit you for that when she found out she was pregnant. How old is this child? Did you say it was a girl?"

"A daughter. She's fourteen. Just had a birthday."

_Valentine's Day._

His mouth was dry. His breathing rasped. He could hardly think. All the information about Rini had come tumbling past Serena's lips, a torrent that had nearly drowned him. Truth was, he couldn't recall much of anything she'd said except the basic, salient points.

"Why did Serena come and tell you now?" Amara asked him.

"Because––because Rini wants to meet her father," he answered her thickly, sounding like a stranger to himself. He _was _a stranger. The Darien Shields he'd lived with for thirty-three years didn't really exist. Gone in the light of one incredible revelation.

"So, meet her."

"I can't," he answered with painful honesty. "I don't want to."

"Why not?" She was impatient.

He had no answer. He just knew he couldn't. His feelings were a jumble. He wasn't prepared to be a father. He didn't feel like a father. _He didn't want to be a father!_

Somewhere during last night he'd roared as much at Serena: _I don't want to be a father!_ She'd flinched as if he'd hit her. He was so furious, so consumed with outrage, that he'd lost his mind for a few moments. He'd awakened, as if from some deep sleep, minutes later to stare down at hands clenched so hard they still ached today. Serena had stood shivering before him, her own hands covering her nakedness, too destroyed herself to reach for the clothes they'd so heedlessly tossed on the floor, heated moments earlier.

He wasn't proud of it, but his initial reaction had been pure horror. The explanation fit so perfectly he didn't doubt it for an instant. She'd left because she was pregnant. With his child. And was one truth he didn't bother questioning; he knew Rini was his. He could sense it in some inner part of himself that grabbed hold of what she was saying and processed it inside his soul.

It also explained her determinedness to discover whether Darien really loved that disastrous night years back. She wanted some security that her child would be brought up in a world filled with love––at least. Instead, he'd accused her sleeping with Diamonde Campbell.

She'd wanted comfort––or at least understanding. As she slowly dressed, her movements heavy with exhaustion, he'd known all he had to do was reach out and touch her and everything would be okay. Okay? No. Nothing would be okay, but Serena would have felt better.

She'd left within a half hour of dropping her bomb, stumbling away although he'd insisted he would call her a taxi. She'd refused. Nothing in Crescent Bay was beyond walking distance, and she'd headed south down the beach to the motel room––part of Shields Enterprises––where she was staying.

Before she disappeared she said something that made him realise much later that Rini, the child in the picture she'd given him, hadn't been living with Serena all these years. In the heat of the announcement, she'd somehow forgotten to convey to him, and he had to admit part of his fury, had been that she'd carried off such a deception for so long with a thought of his feelings.

But after he'd sorted through the words again, his gaze focused squarely out the window on her footsteps that were rapidly being eaten away by the greedy waves, the echo of her meaning finally reached his dulled brain.

"She told me she wanted to meet her father," Serena had said in a choked voice. "She wanted a picture of you, but I didn't have one. I'd made sure there was nothing from those years. I never dreamed she would show up one day and ask for something about you!"

It was only her footsteps were completely washed away that he'd realised Serena had been through this same shock he was feeling now. She'd obviously given Rini up for adoption, and Rini must have looked her up only recently. Her deception had been self-protective, but not completely without regard for his feelings. She'd come to him with the truth after Rini had come to her. And she'd been too upset tonight to realise she hadn't made the situation clear.

If he'd known she hadn't raised Rini herself he might have shown more compassion. He would have believed her decision to keep him in the dark had been more altruistic; made for their daughter's benefit, so that she could have a life with two loving parents––not a pair of mismatched teenagers. But all he'd seen was the fact that Serena had run away with her secret and taken away his choice.

He'd wanted to kill her for that!

_I might never have known,_ he thought with an internal shiver.

But did he want to know now?

Darien covered his face with his hands, raking his fingers through hair grown too shaggy and long. How could _he_ be a father?

His lungs burned from exertion. His legs were like water. His arms hurt. How long had he been running? An hour? Two?

"God…" With an expelling of air that was almost a sob, he flung himself onto the wet sand, sweat pouring from him. The internal shiver hadn't stopped and he trembled.

Amara had spoken to him slowly and clearly, as if he were half-deaf, which, in his distraction, wasn't that far from the truth. "Take a deep breath. Take a run on the beach. Take a few days off work. Get yourself together and then sit down and talk it over rationally. This is an opportunity, Darien," she'd added kindly. "It's not your fault you didn't know."

Then why did it feel like his fault?

Darien rolled onto his back and stared up at the low, thick gray sky. Mist from the ocean dampened his face, cool against his overheated flesh. He would probably die of exposure, he thought, his mouth twisting ironically. No Serena to save him this time.

If he were honest with himself he could admit he's reacted like a child. He'd practically stuck his fingers in his ears and screamed and stomped his feet. Well, not literally, perhaps, but he'd certainly closed himself off to everything but his own emotional outrage, cocooning himself against Serena's own pain and torture to protect himself.

Some hero.

"You bastard," he whispered to the stiff breeze.

Feeling a hundred years old, he climbed to his feet and staggered back up the beach towards home.

It would be nice to take Amara's advice but he couldn't afford the time. He had to see Serena and learn more about his––their––fourteen-year-old Valentine's Day child.

* * *

"Thank you for coming back today. You are the best thing that happened to this place!" Merrick enthused heartily.

"I'm just saying goodbye," Serena reminded him.

"Ha! You are an angel!"

Serena smiled wanly. She'd stopped in to smooth the feathers of a customer who was infuriated that she hadn't gotten her dish just the way she wanted it after asking them to change the recipe until the garlic-dusted scallops had been smothered in sherry and cheese and ended up with about a thousand calories more than normal.

"There oughta be a law," Molly sniffed, casting a glare over her shoulder at the disgruntled woman.

"It's unimportant," Serena answered indifferently. She'd been an automation since the evening before, when Darien had taken her to the peak of ecstasy before dropping her into a chasm of despair.

He'd hated her for delivering the truth. He'd hated her for lying to him. He just hated her.

And it hurt. So much so, that she'd had to relearn how to breathe, since every intake of breath sounded like a sob and choked her swollen throat.

She hadn't cried. She'd gone past that into some strange state of nothingness where feelings were deadened. Of course, they'd come screaming back sometime in the middle of the nig ht, a night so pain-filled she'd curled into a ball and rocked herself to sleep like a newborn babe.

Her sleep had a walked through nightmares. She'd awakened to the knowledge that Rini might not be able to meet her father because Rini's father wasn't interest in being one.

It had ripped her heart in two.

So, why was she here? Because sitting alone with her thoughts for company was the purest form of torture. She didn't know what to do now.

"You okay?" Merrick asked as Serena sank down on one of the stools in the kitchen/

"Fine."

"So, the wedding was beautiful, huh?" Molly asked. She'd hinted around about it all afternoon, ever since Serena had shown up for work. It was so pathetic, Molly's desire still to run with the popular crowd of Crescent High––a crowd that had been forced to accept Serena by virtue of Darien's attraction to her. Serena remembered her own subsequent disinterest in everything associated with popularity and social status.

It was so pathetic and small it was almost funny, but Serena had never felt less like laughing. "Beautiful," she agreed with a sigh. "A beautiful wedding."

"Leave her alone," Merrick scolded. Molly darted him a black look, then shrugged and returned to her duties. Merrick placed a thick reassuring palm on Serena's shoulder, and it was all she could do to keep from weeping. One tear did escape from the corner of her eye and Merrick whispered softly in her ear, "Go home. Whatever it is will be better tomorrow."

She should have taken his advice, but once outside Crawfish Delish, she beelined toward Crown Parlour as if it were a magnet. As she pushed through the doors, the familiar scents of burgers and fries and just about everything of comfort swirled around her, enveloping her.

And as if he'd known she needed him, Fred himself was behind the counter, his face splitting into a grin at the sight of her. (Go to chapter 5 if you've forgotten who he is. Ps, its Andrew's dad)

The tears she'd fought poured out like a tidal wave.

"Serena!" Fred cried, throwing open the counter and coming to her with comforting flour-dusted arms. He embraced her warmly, hugging her hard.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered through her sobs.

"No, no. Get it all out." He patted her back.

Knowing she was making a spectacle of herself, Serena struggled to pull herself together, eventually managing to slip free of Fred's arms, but not of his concern.

"What's the matter, honey?" His normally jovial face was creased with worry. "You are so unhappy."

"It's been an unhappy kind of day," Serena admitted.

"Andrew said you were in town. I said, 'When does she come to see me?' and he says you have important things to do."

"They're done," Serena said.

"Ah… Did they turn out badly?" he asked kindly.

"Something like that."

"Want a milkshake?"

She laughed, swiping away her tears. "I'd love a milkshake."

"Want to tell Freddie your troubles?" he asked, as he headed for the blender and pulled her a tall glass.

She shook her head. "Not especially. But it's great seeing you," she added warmly.

'Then let me tell you about me…"

As Serena positioned herself at a nearby table, Fred launched into tales of his grandchildren. Serena let the warm words soak into her skin, as if Fred's love his family was a tonic for her, as well.

"You never tied the knot, then, huh?" he asked when he came to a slight break in his stories.

"No. Not even a serious relationship."

"I know nobody appreciates advice, but you should give it a try. A girl like you is going to want children sooner or later. Tick, tick, tick! That's the biological clock, and sooner or later you're going to hear it." He pointed a finger at her nose, grinning.

Serena smiled faintly. What could she say?

Fred suddenly glanced up, his brows lifting at something he saw through the glass doors behind her. "It's Darien Shields," he said in a wonder. "He hasn't been here in years."

The hair on Serena's arms rose in tandem with her suddenly galloping heart. She twisted around. Sure enough, Darien was coming across the Crown's parking lot in a straight line from Crawfish Delish's front door. His head was bent against a spate of rain, his black hair lapping over his eyes and obscuring his face.

_He knows I'm here,_ she thought half-hysterically, her eyes desperately searching the room for escape.

"You don't want to see him." Fred eyed her thoughtfully, wiping the table, even though it was clean.

"No, I don't," Serena admitted. Then, hearing herself, she added with a sigh, "But I have to."

"Hmm."

That was all Fred got out before Darien's strong arm pushed open one of the glass swing doors and his gaze collided with Serena's. He looked worse for wear, she realised with a guilty pang; tired, drawn, and grim. The ultimatum was here. There was no more sand in the hourglass.

Unknowingly, Serena squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, preparing herself for round two. As he spied her reaction, Darien's mouth turned downward and he shook his head slowly.

"I've got to know more," he said by way of apology.

"All right," Serena answered uncertainly.

"Come with me for a drive. I've got a car over by Crawfish."

It was more of a command than a request, but who was Serena to argue? She'd come to Crescent Bay for this specific purpose. Soon, it would all be over.

_Or just the beginning…_

She followed him into the rain and climbed into the passenger seat of his rental. Remembering yesterday's intimacy, she shuddered involuntarily, drawing Darien's gaze her way. She met his eyes. He looked––shattered.

"You said she's fourteen," Darien began as soon as they were on their way. His gaze was fastened on the winding road in front of him, his hands gripped tightly around the wheel.

"Yes. Her birthday was Valentine's Day," He frowned, unable to dredge up the data she'd thrown out at him the night before.

This, Serena could understand, so she began again, more cautiously this time in case Darien should react as he had the night before. She could scarcely blame him.

She'd hidden the truth and if the situation were reversed, that sin alone would be unforgiveable.

"I made a lot of stupid decisions that I wouldn't now," Serena confessed with a smile. "But putting Rini up for adoption wasn't one of them. The Kentwells, her adoptive parents, love her. She'd just at an age where she's questioning everything, and it's really hard."

She told him about her visit from Rini, and how their daughter had demanded to meet her father. She specifically related the facts unemotionally; Darien could fill in the blanks if he wanted to without much effort.

He listened in silence until Serena had given him every bit of data about Rini that she could think of. When she was done, she realised belatedly that he'd parked the rental car in the same turnaround she'd found him in the night he'd nearly frozen to death after swimming in the ocean. Mariner Lane. Glancing around, she saw the same, through slightly more dilapidated, closed-up snow-cone shop that had been there in her youth.

Night was falling. The sky, already pewter, seemed to darken and sweep down around them creating an intimacy Serena would have liked to avoid. Darien's profile, so sharp moments before, began to blur in the dimming light.

He hadn't turned to glance at her once during the dissertation, so she was surprised when he suddenly twisted in his seat to give her a good, long look.

"I hate it that I didn't know," he told her.

"I couldn't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Oh Darien…" She gazed out the side window, needing some space. If this went on much longer, she would choke on the lump in her throat all over again.

"All right. Forget it. I understand."

"You do?"

"I was a jerk and we were so young. But even so, you should have told me," he added unable to forgive.

"Will you see her?" Serena asked, her hands knotted into fists.

"Of course, I'll see her. I just can't believe it! It's––incredible. And I don't know how to feel."

"You made your feelings pretty clear last night," Serena said softly, remembering his horrified reaction to the news that he was a father.

Darien sucked in a sharp breath. "Okay, I deserved that. But you hit me in the gut."

"So, what are you saying?" Serena turned to gaze at him.

"You really think I wouldn't want to know my own daughter?" he asked in disbelief, searching her face.

"But you said…"

"I know. I lashed out. At you. I'm still having trouble getting it all straight but I want to meet my daughter."

"You mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it. Just tell me how."

"I––Well, she's in Atlanta this weekend for her birthday. Let me call and see if she and the Kentwells can stay over, so you can meet her."

A long moment passed while Darien's jaw tightened and relaxed several times, as if he were struggling to get something out.

"What?" Serena asked.

"I'd like you to be there with me, when she and I meet."

For an answer, she placed her hand over his.

* * *

With a feeling of unreality still dogging him like a bad smell, Darien let himself into the Shields home, his footsteps loud in the hallway. His entry didn't go unnoticed. He heard animated voices suddenly hush from behind Beryl's sitting-room door.

No time like the present for delivering unpleasant news, he thought, recognising one of the voices as Caroline's.

They say revelations happen to us all, and at that moment, Darien Shields had a revelations––and that revelation was that he was chock full of bull. He'd made himself believe that he and Caroline were a perfect match when in reality they were completely wrong for each other. Together, they were colourless and empty, and Darien finally recognised how hard he'd hung on to this delusion because he hadn't wanted to really face the future.

He couldn't believe himself. Good grief! It had been Serena from the beginning, from the time they were barely older than kids. Could love really last that long? Be that enduring despite such a brief, shaky start?

His inaction for so many years suddenly felt like a betrayal. He wanted movement. Change. A leap toward an uncertain but exciting future. All this time spent half at his place, half at the family home. He'd been waiting for the break. Wanting something to come along and slap him on the head––and it had!

Without knocking, he flung open the sitting-room door. Beryl gazed at him over the tops of her glasses, her ever-present crossword puzzle folded neatly on her lap. Caroline stood at the window, her hands clasped in front of her, her expression hard to read. Darien didn't care. He was emancipated, and in his emancipation he spoke what he felt.

"I've been with Serena."

Caroline stiffened and a sound of protest slipped past her tight lips before she could hold it back. Recklessly Darien added, "She told me I'm a father. I have a fourteen-year-old daughter with her."

Caroline's regal jaw dropped. She gaped at him in pure shock. Darien felt a pang of regret that quickly changed to wonder and fury when he realised Beryl betrayed no emotion whatsoever.

"You knew," he said softly. "All these years, you knew."

She didn't deny it. Nor did she look the least little bit remorseful. "It was the only reason that made sense that she left," she stated primly.

Darien reeled. "You didn't tell me!"

"Would it have made a difference? You were a child!"

"I was eighteen!"

Caroline slumped onto the window seat, staring dazedly at the floor. Beryl threw her an impatient glance, as if annoyed by her lack of backbone. But it was Caroline whom Darien suddenly wanted to comfort. Her reaction was at least real and heartfelt. His mother was alien to him.

"I don't believe this," he muttered hoarsely.

Beryl was furious. "I knew that's why she came back. Just to torture you and turn your life into a circus!"

"Caroline," Darien murmured, moving toward as if in a fog.

"Did you spend last night with her?" Caroline added stiffly.

Darien couldn't deny it. "Yes."

"Did you come here to tell me it's over between us?"

"He did not!" Beryl answered for him, throwing the crossword to the floor and rising to her feet in a tower of fury.

"I can't have the two of you run my life anymore," was Darien's form of reply. "That's over. I'm going to meet my daughter. I'm going with Serena."

Beryl stared at him as if he'd grown reptilian scales. "Darien, I––"

"Don't say it. I don't want to hear it."

"You can't just leave. The business needs you!"

Very briefly, he told her what she could do with the business.

Twin spots of colour flared in his mother's cheeks. "She took money, Darien. That's what she wanted, you know. She chased you down because you could give her a future. She got herself pregnant to ensure that future."

"Stop it." Darien was terse.

"I gave her ten thousand dollars the first time. And she's collected damn near a hundred thousand over the years! Yes, I should have told you rather than let her blackmail me, but damn it! I knew your ridiculous chivalry would create a worse problem!"

"Wait a minute. You gave her money? You bought her off! You _knew_, really _knew_?"

Beryl hesitated for a moment, realising she'd overplayed her hand. Shrugging impatiently, she barrelled on, determined to have her say. "Did you hear how much money I'm talking about? Do you get it?"

"Damn you to hell!" Darien roared, so incensed he could scarcely think.

"I'll show you the cancelled checks. I've got every one of them."

She walked to a drawer in the antique, roll-top desk, pulling out a neatly arranged pile of checks. Holding them in front of his nose, Beryl lifted her chin, but the desperation in her eyes gave her away.

Darien wanted to throw the checks in her face. He didn't care. He didn't give a good goddamn. He had a daughter and all the deceptions didn't matter.

But they did…

Snatching the evidence of Serena's materialism, his heart shattered at the sight of her signature on the back of each and every check. Beryl hadn't lied about the amount. Serena had feathered her nest with about a hundred thousand dollars of Shields money.

"You were a fool to let her take you," he snarled, stomping out of the house and the most vulgar scene of his life.

* * *

Just so, you're not confused, the last sentence is saying how when Darien realised that Serena took the money, his earlier beliefs that Serena got pregnant on purpose are reaffirmed.

So now, he's angry at himself for believing that Serena was different and really loved him. Instead of just trying to get something from him.

Other than that what do you think about this chapter?

Are you satisfied with this insight into Darien's thoughts? Or are you still hungry for more?

But even though, I'm not gona change it.

If you're confused about anything, just tell me, and i'll either reply to your review, or put it up in the next chapter.

Just so you know, this story is nearly at an end.

So it's a warning to those expecting more.

Until next week, please review, and I hope you enjoyed chapter 16; Revelations.

=)


	17. Almost

I'm Sorry!!

I didn't even go on the computer yesterday! So much homework and assessments! And omfg tests!

This is the last chapter but expect an epilogue. =)

I made it a bit long, so be happy!

Next week's update might be a day late too, cos I have a test the day after I usually update, so I need that time to study! '

Anyways, I'll whinge after you've read the chappie. Onwards your eyes may read.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

**

* * *

**

Patchy blue Atlanta skies greeted Serena and Darien as they drove his newly fixed Jeep toward Serena's apartment. Serena's tension mounted with each mile that passed beneath the tires, drawing them farther from Crescent Bay and closer to Rini.

The Kentwells had stayed beyond the weekend and were waiting in a kind of strained limbo for both Rini's biological parents to arrive in Atlanta. Serena had spoken to Rini briefly but most of her conversation had been with Luna Kentwell, who'd sounded as distracted and lost as Serena felt.

"Rini wants to stay, so we'll stay. She can make up her classes. She's a good student. She's a good kid. She'd just got some things to sort through right now and it's hard for her." Luna had drawn a shaky breath. "But it's good for her to close this chapter––or open it," she added quickly, hearing how that had sounded. "It's important. Is––is her father anxious to meet her?"

Serena understood the question. Darien had been more of a phantom all these years than she had. "Very anxious."

"Then we'll see you on Wednesday," Luna said, reiterating what they'd already discussed.

In the past few days Serena had had little contact with Darien. She expected him to stop by or call. Their last moments together had been surprisingly tender, with Darien struggling to come to terms with his fatherhood. Since then, she'd sensed a withdrawal that had left her a little baffled.

In their last conversation, in fact, Darien had been terse to the point of rude.

"I'll pick you up at noon on Wednesday, or as soon as I get the Jeep back"

"Okay," Serena had agreed.

"Goodbye," he'd responded shortly and she'd been left staring at the receiver in her hand, wondering what in the world had happened. Darien seemed to yo-yo from acceptance to rejection with each passing hour. She never knew what to expect next.

Now, she stole a sideways glance at him. His jaw was set and his eyes were locked on the freeway, as if daring to meet her gaze would blind him or worse! When he'd picked her up this morning he'd uttered less than ten words, and apart from a pleasant "Hello" to one of the motel's maids whom Serena half remembered from high school and who was also, therefore, an employee of Shields Enterprises, Darien's face hadn't altered one iota from its unforgiving frown.

But it was not her problem. She was a mass of nerves anyway. She hoped, _prayed_, their coming meeting would be a joyous occasion, not a confrontation. Maybe Darien was as nervous as she was. Maybe that was it. Whatever the case, meeting Rini was the first step toward the rest of all their lives. She had no idea what would come after.

"Turn here," she directed, and Darien silently guided the Jeep to the off-ramp and through the series of streets that led to Serena's apartment complex.

She had no feeling of coming home. The apartment, she realised distantly, meant as little to her as the colourless years of her life since high school. She'd been more alive and vibrant since Rini had come into her life and she'd been forced to return to Crescent Bay. It was as if she'd been on sabbatical all these years. Absolutely everything had changed.

As soon as the Jeep was parked, Serena slid out the passenger door, glancing at the cars in the lot, wondering if one of them belonged to the Kentwells. But no, she and Darien were early. Rini wouldn't be here until dinnertime.

Darien didn't follow her to her door. "Are you coming?" she asked. He shook his head. His tension was palpable, and she felt a wave of empathy. "I can make coffee and sandwiches."

"I'm not hungry."

"Neither am I."

She let herself inside, flicking on lights against the growing darkness as night fell outside. Shivering a bit, she turned up the heat just as Darien, apparently reconsidering, stepped across the threshold and closed the door. He had a perplexed expression, momentarily distracting him from his nervousness before he remembered and his face tensed once more.

"I'm not hungry, but I'm freezing," she said, plugging in the coffee maker.

Darien stood at the edge of the cabinets that separated her u-shaped kitchen from the rest of the apartment. His silence unnerved her, and she kept her gaze on the coffee maker, watching steaming water gurgle through the filter. Now it was her turn to be unable to look at him.

"I know about the money."

His voice could have chilled the Sahara. Serena shivered and asked automatically. "The money?"

"That Beryl gave you."

Serena gazed at him in anguish. An unfathomable ache filled her chest. She was beaten. Aunt Elena had signed the check and she hadn't stopped her. Serena may have given her mother her life, but it had cost her Darien.

"Aren't you even going to try to deny it?" he added hoarsely.

"I told Beryl I'd pay her back."

"Oh, God…" His words were a soft prayer. He sagged against the counter. Automatically she moved to help him but he jerked away and Serena stopped short, stunned by his withdrawal.

"I'm sorry," she murmured on a half sob.

Betrayal filled his eyes. "I always told myself you were different. All these years, at some level I believed you were the one. I lied to myself about it, but then suddenly, here you were! _And I believe in you!_"

Serena couldn't answer him. No excuse was good enough.

"You know I expected you to tell me it was all a trick. Something my mother managed to pull off. I never knew why she hated you so much. I couldn't understand." His voice broke and he stopped himself.

"Dari––" She reached a trembling hand to him.

"Don't! Don't touch me! Just don't!" His voice shook with loathing. "I told you I loved you, but it's a lie. It's all a lie!"

"Rini isn't. She's real."

"You're a lie."

The buzz of Serena's apartment bell felt like an electric jolt. Darien shuddered. Serena walked to the door, her legs lead weights. It took every ounce of will power she possessed to twist the knob.

"Hi" she greeted Rini and Luna and Artemis Kentwell. "We've been looking forward to seeing you…"

* * *

Serena sat in an armchair, too exhausted to do more than cradle her cup of coffee and watch the proceedings as if she were an uninterested partly. Artemis and Luna Kentwell sat on the love seat that flanked her left side. Darien and Rini stood tensely near the counter that divided the kitchen from view. They clearly did not know what to do with each other, their fascination was obvious. From the moment Rini had crossed the threshold, she and Darien hadn't taken their eyes off each other. Having gone through the same experience so recently, Serena could well understand their absorption and shock.

As for her, there was another kind of turmoil inside her breast. He hated her. She'd taken the money and he hated her. Why, in all the worry over their secret love-child, had she never considered that this would be the mortal wound?

Luna leaned toward Serena. "They look a lot alike, don't they?"

"Yes." Serena attempted a smile.

"It's all so difficult…"

Serena nodded.

"I've worried for years," Luna confided. "As an adoptive parent you know that someday your child's going to ask questions. We never hid her adoption from her, but we didn't encourage a lot of discussion, either. It was too hard."

"And then when Rini wanted to find you, I resisted a little. I guess I was afraid she'd love you more."

Serena nearly choked on her coffee. Her gaze was on Rini's expressive face. Although Rini tried to hide it, her delight in meeting her father was self-evident. Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes sparkled. She smoothed back on her pigtails, her fingers twisting the rubber-banded ended, a self-conscious gesture that displayed none of the defiance she'd shown when she'd first her Serena.

"He didn't know, did he?" Luna guessed, throwing a look at Darien.

"Pardon?"

"About Rini. You told him after Rini found you. That's what took so long."

"No, he didn't know," Serena admitted.

"He's not going to tell her. At least, not now. He's going to protect you."

Serena laughed without humour. "He wouldn't protect me. He'll protect Rini."

"In time, it will all work out." Luna smiled. "I really did worry a lot before. I was so afraid she would meet you both and all of a sudden you'd be this happy family and Rini would be gone."

Artemis reached over and silently clasped his wife's hand. It was them Serena realised that Luna was trembling; that this whole scenario was so incredibly hard on her.

"You never had to worry," Serena blurted out. "You're her parents. You raised her. I can't deny I haven't had those same dreams, but that's not the way it works."

"When she got so belligerent, I blamed myself," Luna murmured, tears developing in the corners of her eyes. "I wanted to just hold on and keep her home!"

"You can't do that," Artemis muttered, as if he'd said it a thousand times before, which he probably had.

Luna nodded. "No, you can't. But it's _so hard!_"

"You've been really wonderful," Artemis interjected seriously. "Luna was so afraid, and so was I, that meeting her parents would backfire and Rini would be more angry."

Serena twisted her cup in her hands and flicked a look at Darien. His animosity toward her was carefully veiled, or with any luck, momentarily forgotten, as he talked quietly with Rini. "I think it's a good thing."

"Oh, it is!" Luna nodded. "I'm so glad!"

"I guess we're all wondering what the future will bring," Artemis said, and at that moment there was a lull in Darien and Rini's intimacy.

"Rini says you're not flying back until this weekend," Darien said to Artemis and Luna. "If that's the case, I'd like to invite you all to Crescent Bay.

Rini's bright face turned eagerly to her parents. Artemis and Luna looked uncertain and the pain in Serena's breast swelled to drastic proportions. She wanted to be a part of this. She wanted to be invited, but she knew there was no hope.

"All right," Artemis agreed.

For a split second Darien glanced at Serena. His thoughts were unreadable, but the slant of his jaw told another story.

"I'm driving home tonight," he suggested. "Why don't I take you to your hotel and we'll pick up your luggage and go…"

* * *

The yearbook tumbled out of her closet as if it had been waiting for just the right moment to surprise her. Stuffed beneath a mass of belts and jewellery, she'd taken it to be a part of the shelf during her search. Her eye had travelled over it a dozen times while she'd concentrated on more hidden areas where she'd assumed the yearbook must be.

Now, when one of her belts had lopped down and impeded the closet door, she'd yanked the offending article out and the yearbook had followed. A sense of premonition ticked icily down Serena's spine. Frozen for a moment, she almost reluctantly picked it up and carried it to the bed.

Darien and company had been gone less than an hour, and in that time she'd desperately tried to put them out of her mind. Thinking them was dangerous. She'd always wanted a family and for the second time in her life she was the uninvited and unwelcome interloper. Couldn't she be a part of it? Couldn't she?

She'd called Lita at work, but Lita had been unable to talk because Nathan was sick, so she was swamped with work as the temporary chef was underqualified in her regards. Serena offered to help, but Lita had absolutely insisted she stay home and "work through this." If that wasn't enough, Nathan had to encourage her to think through this, while coughing phlegm into a tissue. He couldn't cook, so this was his chance to work at the accounting, which was being neglected by Serena.

Serena thought working might be a better antidote, but she sensed how weary she was. So, she'd prowled around the apartment in misery and frustration and then the yearbook had popped into her possession.

With slightly unsteady fingers she opened the gilt-edged cover. Memories from high school flooded her vision. Molly and Amy and Raye and Mina, and most of all, Darien shields. Casually she turned pages, lingering on his senior picture, consumed by how young he looked. How you _she_ looked! It was all well and good remembering, but it struck Serena how incredibly long ago and far away it was.

His football pictures brought back an extra tingle of resentment. She'd been blamed, after all, for the team's floundering in the play-offs. But seeing him drawn back for a pass, right hand in the air, his uniform mud-splattered, a surge of players surrounding him, Serena suddenly wondered what all the fuss was about. Why had she cared so much? Why had everyone? It was silly, really. A silly game. A silly time of her life. There was absolutely no reason to waste all this energy on something that, in the end, mattered so little. Closing the book, Serena flopped down on her bed. The images stayed in her head. And in her soul was the deepest heartbreak she'd experience to date.

A tear trickled from the corner of her eye and she clenched her hands into the comforter.

* * *

The floorboards of the tree house were mushy with rot. Darien stepped gingerly across them to the window, wincing with every creak and groan. It was a strange feeling, being here, but yesterday Rini had insisted on climbing inside and Darien, fearing for her safety, had accompanied her and they'd spent a pleasant afternoon together.

Rini was gone now. He'd driven her, Artemis and Luna to Sea-Tac airport this morning. But her memory lingered and Darien couldn't help the chuckle that erupted from him now as he glanced toward Shields Manor.

Rini had taken Beryl by storm!

Not that he hadn't been in a state of delayed shock himself; meeting his full-grown daughter had left him speechless and locked in amazement. But when they arrived in Crescent Bay and Beryl got a look at Rini––and narrow-eyed, Rini regarded her grandmother right back––the fun began. Woe to anyone who tried to mould Rini Kentwell, and Beryl jumped right in to do just that. Beryl might not like Serena. But Shields blood was Shields blood and she'd been determined, by God, to win her granddaughter to her side. Being her usual forceful self, Beryl had taken over, dragging Rini through the house and yammering madly about what it meant to be a Shields.

What Beryl didn't count on was that Rini was Shields through and through; she wasn't about to be coerced, cajoled or forced into anything. And Rini said so, in no uncertain terms.

Beryl's response to this was to make a sideways comment about Serena. Darien's chuckle deepened in his chest. Sparks had flown them! Rini might have just met Serena, but Beryl had slurred her _mother!_ Swords were drawn, so Darien had quickly hustled the slightly befuddled Kentwells outside to view the ocean. When they'd all returned it was to absolute, total silence, with Beryl at one end of the room and Rini at the other. Rini then slid him a look of "I'm had enough already" and Beryl stood iron straight, lips thinned with fury and disappointment––a posture he knew only too well.

The tree house had been Rini's way to get her father alone, Darien realised after he'd scrambled up after her. She couldn't know the memories it evoked for him. Darien hadn't set foot inside the place since that last time with Serena, and he'd had to fight stirring emotions he wanted to quash forever.

He and Rini had been forced to share a section on the far side of the structure that had escaped the worst of the rot, but that was okay with Rini. Although she hadn't said so, he could tell she enjoyed the tree house as only a kid can. For that, fighting his own feelings was worth it, and he'd settled against the hard slats at his back with a strange feeling of contentment.

Of course, Rini had other ideas. "What's _her_ problem?" she'd demanded right away, jerking her head in the direction of the house.

"Beryl?"

"Yeah," she'd snorted, flipping back a hair strand and staring at him through blue eyes that were more like his than Serena's but reminded him of Serena all the same.

"You mean, besides egomania?"

Laughter filled those gorgeous orbs, held in check, however, since he was still the enemy, too. That, he'd figured out right away. Rini might want to meet her parents but she was reserving judgement on whether to love them or not.

_Love…_. Such a difficult word and one that seemed to come so easily to him all of a sudden. For years he couldn't face it, or voice it, or believe in it. Now, within the space of a few weeks, he realised he'd loved Serena all along and that he loved Rini immediately, no holds barred.

Except he didn't love Serena anymore, he reminded himself.

"Was she always like that?" Rini asked curiously.

"To varying degrees."

"I wouldn't trust anything she said. She wants to get people."

It was Darien's turn to stare. He couldn't deny it, but her perception got to him. "She's difficult."

"She hates my mother, doesn't she? She didn't come right out and say it, so I said it."

Darien frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I said, 'Why do you hate my mother so much? What did she ever do to you?' and she got all testy and puffed up."

He could picture Beryl, ready to explode. "I'll bet!" he muttered with feeling.

"Why does she hate her?"

"Because…" Darien hesitated, picking through his words.

But Rini wasn't one to wait. "Because?"

"Because I loved her," he decided after a long moment. "Beryl sensed something I didn't even know, and she did everything she could to keep up apart."

"I thought you wouldn't marry her."

"It never came to that."

Rini nodded and murmured, "Ahh…" in understanding. Staring down at her hands, a line forming between her brows, she asked softly, "You didn't know about me, did you? Beryl made a crack about you not knowing."

As angry as Darien was at Serena, he didn't want to hurt her further, but neither did he want to lie. "No, I didn't."

"What happened when she told you the truth?"

Thinking of that night, Darien made a face. He'd let Serena down. He'd let himself down. "I––freaked out. Totally lost it."

That had made her grin. "I'll bet," she'd echoed with his identical inflection, and then they were both laughing.

And for a shining moment Darien had been thoroughly and completely happy. He couldn't recall every being so happy, in fact, except for the hours he'd spent with Serena.

Now, as he gazed out the makeshift window toward the beach and watched faint streaks of sunlight peek between the gray clouds, he searched his feelings and realised he was going to have to get over thinking about Serena and concentrate on Rini instead. She was his family now. No one else. Not even Beryl.

Drawing a deep breath and exhaling carefully, Darien reached into his back pocket and pulled out the series of cancelled checks that Beryl had given him. He looked at them daily. He had to constantly remind himself of Serena's treachery or he would go back to her like a big, stupid puppy, desperate for love.

But his love was for Rini. Only Rini. He would see her as much as possible and she could absorb all his love. He didn't need Serena. He didn't need anyone else.

Her signature scrawled so boldly and defiantly across the back of the checks infuriated him. He crumpled the checks with his fist. His hand hurt. He wanted to crush them to pulp. But then the spurt of rage and betrayal slipped away, turned to emptiness––a vast wasteland of nothing.

He just wanted lie down and die.

He wanted to hate her forever, but his chest throbbed with pain.

"Damn you, Serena," he muttered, swallowing hard. "Damn you…"

* * *

"Since when do you want to sell us your partnership?" Lita demanded, glaring at Serena as if he were a recalcitrant child.

"Yeah. Why?" Nathan looked confused and disappointed.

Serena tapped her pen on the table beside the chopping board. "Since I decided to move on. My daughter lives in Phoenix and––"

"You're planning to move to Phoenix?" Lita gasped.

"Not immediately. I don't want alarm the Kentwells. But I think I'll start making some changes. I've got some money saved––enough to get by on for a while. I do have a debt to pay back," she added ironically, "but I should have some left over for some travelling. Maybe I'll move to Hawaii for a few months and lie around in the sun and drink mai-tais."

"You'll go crazy," Lita predicted.

"Probably."

"Sounds like you want a change. You don't have to sell, you know. Nathan and I can manage by ourselves for a bit longer, and if it's too much, we can hire someone. Just until you find yourself."

"Find myself! I've found myself. Finally!" Serena declared. "After years of being in limbo it's all over now, and I can get on with my life. When Rini showed up on my doorstep, that started it all."

Lita and Nathan both examined Serena thoughtfully as she inspected the menu.

Nathan questions, "What about Rini's father?"

Serena shrugged. "What about him?"

"What's his role in all this?"

"I haven't talked to him." Serena was blasé.

"Ahh…"

"Okay, what's that mean?" Serena asked. Nathan held his hands; knife and all, in the air in the surrender position. "Sounds like there's still unfinished business. Oh, I know, I know!" he said, moving his hands to ward off the protests already forming on Serena's lips before returning to the chopping board. "You told us what happened between you. I heard. But it ain't over till the fat lady sings, and to my mind, she's been pretty quiet."

Lita nodded in agreement.

Serena didn't want to argue with him, or Lita, but she couldn't let that one go by. "He thinks I took that money for myself Lita!"

"Yeah, so? Of course, he does! All you have to do is tell him the truth."

"I took the money for my mother. I did take it."

"Your Aunt Elena took it."

"For _my _mother. I could have stopped her. I could have found another way to make everything alright."

"Oh honey." Lita suddenly put her arms around her, surprising Serena. Unwanted tears sprang to her eyes in spite of herself.

"Anyway, I'm paying Beryl Shields back," Serena said, her voice quivering. "I've got the cashier's check already."

"You did what you thought was right for your mama, and no one can blame you for that," Lita said kindly.

"Oh, yes, they can." Serena's voice was low with emotion. She had to get out of this conversation fast, or she was going to break down altogether. "I can't decide whether to send it, or give it to her in person."

"Oh, in person!' Lita was definite. "Make sure you look that bitch right in the eye and tell her it's over."

Serena managed a half laugh. "Thanks Lita. You too Nathan."

With a last, hard hug from both of them, they let her go. "Well, we're not letting you sell out just yet. And you let Rini's father know about this payment to his mother. The way you describe her, she might not tell him."

"Oh, I'm sure she won't. But believe me, it won't matter. It's over between us forever." The finality of her words hurt, but Serena fought back a new set of tears.

"Well, it'll buy you back your self-respect. And that can get you anything," Lita said, sounding sage.

Serena smiled sadly. She knew better. Darien hated her for taking his family's money, and that was that. All she could hope for now was that he wouldn't poison Rini's mind against her too.

* * *

"Thank you, Darien," Emerald Campbell said for about the fiftieth time. "Thank you so much!"

"Your welcome," he answered into the receiver, "but it's Molly Baker who hired you."

"But it was only after you stopped by this morning that I became a full-time employee!" she reminded him.

"It's Crawfish Delish's gain," he muttered, wishing he could get her off the phone. He didn't do well with gushing enthusiasm. It always made him feel like a fake, somehow.

But Emerald wasn't about to give up. "It's like Christmas in February! My mother's come to stay and take care of the kids for a while and Diamonde's actually been trying to catch up on some back payments. I can't believe it! Everything's just about perfect. When I think where I was just a few weeks ago… Well, you never know, do you?"

_No, you never do._

"I'll by tomorrow with this month's rent and a little extra." She actually laughed with delight. "You may own everything in town, but you're one heck of a nice guy, Darien Shields!"

Her words should have cheered him up. They should have at least registered. But since Rini's exit he'd been in a blue funk that couldn't be lifted, no matter how much he berated himself.

Maybe it was time for another run on the beach. Maybe it was time for a change. _Something…_

Darien was bent down to change his shoes when his intercom buzzed. "Someone to see you," his receptionist announced.

_If it's Caroline or my mother…_ Darien thought savagely, jerking to attention. Since the night Beryl had given him the checks, he'd scarcely spoken to either of them. Yesterday, Caroline had left a message on his answering machine saying she was finally considering taking the job in Seattle. He'd felt a pang of remorse then; Caroline deserved better. But it quickly faded away because it was all for the best, anyway. It would never work between them, not after what happened.

As for Beryl… They hadn't communicated in any form since Rini had left. A blessing, Darien thought, less and less convinced his mother's machinations were to benefit the family and more than a little sure she was only looking out for her own best interests.

_What's best for you…_

Darien shuddered––footsteps walking on his grave. Preparing himself for a battle of wills if his unexpected guest should turn out to be Beryl, and a battle of unwanted emotion if it should be Carline, Darien faced the door…and was surprised when a strange woman stepped across his threshold. She was vaguely familiar looking, however, and he fought to place her. He'd seen nearly everyone in Crescent Cay at one time or another. Hell, he'd probably gone to high school with her!

"My Shields, you don't know me," she began uncomfortably, "but I work at Seacliff Motel. I'm one of the maids."

Memory surfaced. When he'd picked up Serena to take her to Atlanta, she was the maid who was cleaning the rooms. A Shields employee, he thought ironically. "I remember you from the other day."

She seemed pleased he'd recalled her. "That's right. I was there when you came to pick up Serena Tsukino."

Darien's brows lifted. She knew exactly who Serena was.

"My name's Lindy," she explained hurriedly. "Susan Winters is my sister. Caroline's friend from high school…?" She waited for Darien to make the connection. He remembered Susan but he hadn't seen her since graduation, so he merely shrugged and waited for Lindy to go on. "I was a few years younger than you guys. My dad kind of got in financial trouble and we lost our house, so we all moved away, but I came back. But none of that matter," she added, apparently realising she was rambling on. "When I saw Serena I wondered if you two still had a thing, but then everyone said you and Caroline were engaged."

Darien waited. What the hell did this have to do with the price of tea in China? Lindy rushed on. "Of course, it's none of my business, but I was cleaning up one day and I dumped out her wastebasket, and, and well, your name just jumped out at me."

"My name?" Darien asked, confused.

Reaching into her purse, Lindy pulled out what looked like a letter, all ripped up and taped back together. Shyly, she handed it to Darien.

"It was powerful information. I didn't know what to do, so I just kind of kept it awhile, but now that she's gone I thought you'd better have it, in case she never told you…"

Darien accepted the letter and glanced down at the pages. Then he looked again, harder. Distantly, he heard Lindy say, "I just thought you should know, y'know…"

_Pregnant…Our daughter…Rini…Wanted to tell you so badly…So sorry…so awfully sorry…_

Blood pounded in Darien's head. Lindy kept talking but he only caught the gist of what she was saying, which was mainly about how she didn't know whether to tell him or not. But Darien was too focused on Serena's words to pay much attention and when he finally surfaced, she was gone. Silence filled his office, a strange backdrop to the turbulence inside of him. He read the letter again, although there was nothing in it he didn't already know.

When he was finished he lay back in his chair and tried to summon the strength to go running. He couldn't move. He felt zapped, enervated, destroyed. It was like being dunked underwater every time you surfaced. Over and over and over again. And he was powerless to kick himself free.

Shadows lengthened outside his window and the pink neon crab and scripted letter of Crawfish Delish! came alive in the gathering gloom. Darien clenched his teeth together. It hurt. It hurt like hell. So what if he knew the contents of the letter, it still hurt everytime he was reminded of Serena's betrayal and treachery. Slowly, slowly he was coming to terms with why she'd hidden Rini's existence from him…_but not the money!_ He could never forgive her that. Her cold avarice ripped his soul.

"I'm going home now," his receptionist's voice called over the intercom. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks."

Moments later he was alone. The letter lay between his hands. He crumpled it, just s he'd crumpled the checks a few days earlier. He wanted to crush her words from his sight and rip her memory from his mind's eye.

A jolt. His heart somersaulted painfully. Realisation drove the blood from his brain and set up a hard hammer inside his veins.

He smoothed out the letter, examining it carefully.

"My God," he murmured, shocked.

He examined her words again, reading between the lines this time to something Serena would never have suspected he could see. He waited, making sure, asking himself if he might not just be playing the fool because he loved her so much.

But no, the truth was there.

With a lighter heart and firmer resolve, he slammed out of the office, taking the stair three at a time as he raced to his Jeep.

* * *

Late-afternoon sunlight slanted over Crescent Bay, like an arrow pointing the way home. Caught in its glow, Serena opened her car door and was immediately met with a puff of brisk ocean breeze. Her hair whipped around her face and she pulled back the errant strands and breathed deeply, closing her eyes and turning her face into the cool wind, listening to the distant roar of the surf.

On her way to the Shields' and Beryl. The final stop on this tour of destiny.

But first, a walk down memory lane at Crown's Parlour.

"Sustenance," she murmured, hurrying across the street and through the front doors.

Jukebox music blared––something in the alternative rock line that was faintly memorable but even less melodic. To her delight, Fred was there, along with Andrew.

"Hi!" they both called in unison.

"Hey, there," Serena greeted them "A milkshake," she ordered before either of them could ask. "I need a shot of courage."

"You look better," Fred decreed, his eyes skimming over her discerningly.

"I'm at the end of a long, hard journey."

"Going to see Darien?" Andrew guessed.

"No, I'm checking in with Madame Shields."

Fred's face twisted into a look of comical horror. "Her?"

_The Evil Witch herself._ "Yep."

"You take care of yourself," Fred warned. "She's a mean woman with a tongue that could cut glass."

"Dad!" Andrew half laughed.

"She's lucky her son's like his father. Oh, Daniel had his faults." Fred waved off any protests either she or Andrew might make with both hands. "He liked a good time too much, maybe. But he wasn't mean. He liked people and he loved his children. He had a nice daughter, too, but she had to leave for good because that wife of his was full of acid, heel to scalp. Picked out Darien's wife before he was even born and did every she could think of to get rid of anyone else!" he shook his finger at Serena's nose. "Don't think I don't know. I always knew! She hurt you, and she'll keep right on doing it."

"She can't hurt me anymore," Serena said quietly, touched by Fred's concern.

"No?" He didn't believe her.

"No," she assured him.

He frowned and blinked at her, wanting to concur but unable to. She loved him for that. Holding out her arms, she gave both of them bug hugs before she reluctantly eased away.

"You come back here if she beats you down. You come back to Crowns! We're your family, you know!"

"I know." Serena struggled to smile, then slipped out the door to her dance with destiny.

* * *

Shields Manor loomed large and bleak even with a watery sun trying to fight its way free of clinging gray clouds. Serena climbed from her car and marched to the intercom, pressing the buzzer with a slightly unsteady finger.

"Anybody there?" she demanded, sure Beryl was sitting in her web, just waiting.

For an answer the gate buzzed open. No verbal response, just an eerie, silent admittance that made Serena's throat go dry in spite of her bravado.

But that was all it as, she could admit now that she was away from Fred and Andrew's support. Bravado. No substance. A blustering façade that lacked any real conviction. Beryl had wronged her, but somehow Serena knew _she _would be the villain. Beryl would twist and turn and blame and nearly convince Serena that it was all her fault anyway!

But, so what? There was no other option, no other path to pursue.

Wind slapped at her face and slid cold fingers beneath the collar of her black jacket. Her boots slipped a bit on the damp stone walkway. Infuriated by her whipping hair, she yanked it back into a ponytail and held it with one hand. Inelegant, perhaps, but too bad.

With her free hand she rapped on the door. Would Beryl magically open it, as well?

But it was Darien who twisted the handle and slid the well-oiled oak door open. The chandelier cast sparkling shadows on the floor and across his face. In low-slung jeans, a torn denim shirt and toting a hammer, his hair tousled, a smudge of dirt near his chin, he looked strong and vulnerable at the same time. All the vinegar went out of Serena and stood in shock, consumed by the desire to throw herself into his arms and beg him to believe in her.

"Darien," she said through numb lips. "I need to see your mother."

His mouth twisted. "Not me?" he asked, sounding faintly sad.

"I thought you didn't want to see me anymore."

He shook his head, his eyes hooded so she could read his expression.

"I––I talked to Rini," she said as he closed the door behind her, creating an unintended intimacy that crawled across her skin like a premonition. "I think she really enjoyed being here with you."

"She's a great kid."

Serena's eye searched his face, her heart skipping a beat. "You think so? I mean, I do. I can't believe I missed all that time with her, and now I just want to hold her and tell her how sorry I am."

They way his eyes stared into her soul silenced her tongue. She wanted to cry. He wouldn't understand. He would be the _last_ person on earth to understand. "I just love her so much," Serena finished awkwardly.

"So you were looking for my mother." He continued, frowning at the floor, as if continuing to look at her was too much effort.

"Uh, yes…" The urge to throw the money in Beryl's face had disappeared. Now she just felt tired. "I need to––pay her back."

"She's in Seattle. We had words and she decided she needed a little vacation."

"Words?" Serena asked, instinctively knowing it concerned her.

"Do you want to give me the check? I promise I'll see that she gets it."

Serena didn't know what to do. It seemed so anticlimactic, somehow. Reluctantly, she reached into her purse for the envelope with the cashier's check. "I added interest on. If it's not enough, I'll be happy to pay more."

A spasm crossed his face. For a moment she thought he was going to refuse the envelope, but then he snapped it from her fingers and boldly ripped it open. He stared at the check for a long moment. "How much money did you borrow?" he asked.

"I––didn't I tell you? Ten thousand dollars." She craned her neck to look at the check. "Why? I said I'd pay more if it's not enough."

"My mother had checks written to you for over a hundred thousand dollars."

"_What?_ My God! She didn't I took ten thousand dollars for my mother, and I shouldn't have, but I––" Serena swept in a harsh breath, shaking all over. "_She lies!_"

"It's not a lie. I talked to––"

"You––you can't believe that I took––I took––"

Serena stumbled over the words, hurrying them out. "I didn't. I couldn't! I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"Wait––"

"No, no." She threw up a hand, warding him off.

"Serena!"

Tears blurred her vision. "Take the check!" She gulped, stumbling towards the front door and into the front yard. "We're even! It's over! No more!"

Hysterically, she reached her car, opening the driver's door. "It's just another trick to make me look worse! But no, it's not going to work anymore! I'm leaving, leaving from this place. I'm moving to closer Rini and I'm going to hopefully forget everything about _her!_"

"For God's sake, _I know_ you didn't take the money," Darien hissed through his teeth when he finally caught up to Serena and dragged her out of the car and onto the pavement. He grabbed her arms, Serena pulled at his fingers, but his words finally penetrated. She glanced up at him, her eyes full of questions.

With a groan, he suddenly pulled close, until she could feel the light beating of his heart beneath her tense fingers. "Then what?"

"Come here," he muttered roughly, his arms surrounding her, his breath tickling the hairs near her ear. "Let me hold you."

Time seemed suspended. Serena drank in his scent like a sweet elixir, letting it fill her head. Could she let him in again? After all he's done to her. She couldn't take the pain again, not after all her effort to get over it. How would she know Darien wouldn't have another mood swing and decide to finish off her heart one last time? She wanted to collapse against him, but she didn't dare. What did he mean?

Without a word, he drew back, gazing down at her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. "Come out to the tree house," he invited roughly.

Tree house? Serena let him lead her to the base of the tree where a ladder had been securely lashed to the trunk. Darien climbed up and reached a hand down to her. Glad for her own jeans and sneakers, Serena climbed to the new laid floorboards of the famous tree house, scene of reluctant memories of her youth.

"So, that's what the hammer's for," she murmured, smelling the new wood.

"Rini wanted to be here. I hadn't climbed up since high school and the place was rotten."

"And you decided to save it?" Serena asked, dozens of more pressing questions flying inside her head, unable to voice any of them.

"I thought it was worth saving."

The hammock swayed softly. A new hammock. Not as big as the other. Big enough, though, she thought inconsequently.

"You look scared," Darien said softly.

"I'm thinking about Beryl."

He threw back his head and laughed. "Liar," he said.

"I'm thinking about the money," Serena exclaimed. "And that reminds me of Beryl."

"The money Beryl sent Elena."

Serena's jaw dropped. "What do you know of Elena?"

"I know she's your aunt and that she endorsed the original check Beryl sent you for your mother. I know she endorsed at least ten other checks as well, all made out to you and equalling ten thousand dollars each. I know she deposited them in a bank under your name."

The ground rushed forward.

Serena's head buzzed. It was suddenly too heavy to hold up. "Wha-at?" she whispered, as Darien's arms suddenly closed around her, supporting her, guiding her to the hammock where they both fell in a tangle of arms and legs that normally would have embarrassed Serena, but right now she couldn't think!

"It's all right. She saved it all. Took it from Beryl for you and your baby. Kept right on taking it without a qualm. Proud as a peacock about it, as a matter of fact."

"You––talked to her?" Serena's tongue was too fat for her mouth. Everything circled in slow motion. Telling herself she just needed the support, she buried her face in Darien's warm neck.

"I talked to everybody. Elena, Beryl, Lita, Nathan…" He shuddered, while he waited for that to sink in but Serena was too undone to react. "When I figured it all out, I headed straight for Atlanta. I ran into Lita and Nathan first, they told me you were going to pay off your debt and they didn't want me screwing it up."

"They said that?" Serena gasped.

"And a lot more, besides," he added with feeling. "So, I tracked down Elena, then came back and waited. You took your sweet time getting down here. I've been hanging around this place for days."

"You've been waiting for me?" Serena repeated.

"Yes." He chuckled.

She couldn't take it all in. "Elena took more money from Beryl?" she asked now, horrified.

"I was ready to turn her in to the authorities for fraud," Darien admitted, "but I decided to confront her first. It was a good thing. Gave me a different perspective. And then when I had it out with my mother, well, a few more things came to light."

"Like what?"

"Beryl is a control freak. She's always wanted to direct my life, and she wanted you out of it. Somewhere in her warped mind, she thought if she kept paying you off, you'd look worse. The more money you took, the more evil you would be."

"God," Serena murmured, shivering.

"It almost worked," he said flatly. "I reacted just the way she expected, but then I realised the signature wasn't yours."

"How?"

"Your letter," he admitted, then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket that had been pasted together. Serena blinked in lack of understanding as she recognised the letter she'd written to Darien when she'd first arrived in Crescent Bay. "This is a small town," he reminded her with a laugh. "The maid thought I might like to read what you had to say. She gave it to me after I got back from meeting Rini."

He settled more comfortably in the hammock, winding his arms around Serena's waist tightly. "Your house had very little extravagant furniture and stuff, it didn't make sense if you had that much money for so long and not spend at least some of it." He sighed deeply and chuckled. "And besides, when I looked closer in your letter, your signature didn't look like the ones on the checks." Smiling, he hugged her close.

"Oh, Darien!" she breathed, holding him tightly.

"I love you," he answered, his lips soft against her cheekbone. "I've always loved you. And I don't want to wait anymore."

"Do you mean it?" Her voice quivered.

For an answer he fit her body snugly against his hard contours. "Could you stand to live in Crescent Bay again? Could you stand to be Shields?"

So much information. Too much. Too fast! Her senses swam with delight. _Wait_, she warned herself. _Be smart. Think. Don't rush._

"If you're asking me to marry you, the answers yes," Serena replied, disregarding every bit of her own advice. "That is, if you and Caroline have called it quits…"

"It was quits before it ever started," he admitted harshly. "And yes, _you know_ I want you to marry me!"

Before she could respond he swooped in for a kiss. Serena's lips parted in surprise and Darien slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss was long, hot, and filled with pent-up desire. Serena's fingers wound in his hair. Her tongue danced with his and then she couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up from inside her. "I love you!" she told him. "I always have."

"We have a daughter. I know she's happy with the Kentwells, but do you think she'll be happy for us? I mean––"

"I know what you mean. Of course, she will. She can be with us some of the time. The Kentwells want what's best for her."

"So do I." he answered soberly.

"She brought us together again," Serena said.

They stared at each other for a long moment, savouring the rediscovery, then Darien took it upon himself to remind her what the tree house had meant to them, his mouth moving down her neck as his fingers undid the buttons to her blouse.

And that was how Rini came to have a sister, Mika, which meant the new moon, the start of something new and whole, born on Christmas Day.

* * *

Ahh, so its over. Just wondering something. Do you think I should change the title??

The current one seems so boring. I'm thinking of 'What's best for you'

What do you think?

Anyway, Please Review! And tell me whether I should change it?

Oh, yeah one more thing I want to whinge about is my economics test. How the heck am I supposed to remember all those f**king numbers?

God... Do I sound like I'm superman?

Oh and yeah, Essays are evil. Evil little buggers meant to torture me to death. Like mozzies. =.=

Ah, now I feel better.

Please Review!

If I get enough people wanting me to change the title, and if i think its better if I do change it, then when I update the epilogue, don't be surprised at the title. It's still the same story.

BYeee!


	18. Epilogue

Ha! I only have an essay task left and next week is the holidays!!

Here is the long awaited epilogue and I'm sorry if it was too late.

I had my test on biz on weds...I got crap, that's all I'll say.

And the rest...well, afterwards, I had to rewrite an entire english essay and write up a report for chemistry. =.=

But I hope you like the epilogue. I'm sorry if you wanted more, but my brain has taken a beating and I just wanted to get something out you guys.

Here it is.

* * *

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

* * *

**Epilogue**

**

* * *

**

"Darien! Rini's here!" Serena showed Rini in, while balancing Mika one-handed and shutting the door. The sound of Artemis and Luna's car could be heard exiting the front gate.

"Rini!" Darien came from the study room to bestow Rini a large, tight hug, which Rini, squeamishly returned, before sighing in relief when Darien let go. "How's my girl doing? Want to help me feed Mika?"

In the past year or so, Darien and Serena had grown, if possible, even closer to their daughter. With monthly, sometimes weekly visits to and from each other, their paternal bonds had become stronger and stronger. Serena could now…hopefully…understand most what of Rini's body language meant. Though that sometimes tended to backfire when she had assumed one time Rini had a crush on a guy at school. Serena, understanding what it felt to be in her situation, began talking to her about how it was okay to talk about her feelings. Rini… well, let's say it wasn't a crush per se, more like an ever-lasting, mind consuming hatred for a poor boy named Helios, so the talk was…awkward.

Darien on the other hand got on fabulously with his daughter. The tree house was a great help in that area, and complaining about boys (Rini would imagine Helios at these moments, while Darien freely insulted the boy) would make great conversation fillers.

Now that the Mika was old enough to crawl a few metres or so, Serena and Darien could have Rini over to play with her little sister, in which they would relish the comfortable and calm atmosphere. Rini had relaxed with her time with her biological parents. Her approval of her biological parents was obvious and she was learning to love them. Her sister however, was guaranteed a spot in Rini's heart when just a few hours after her birth, had gripped Rini's finger in a death hold and wouldn't let go until Serena had to bare her chest and feed Mika.

Darien of course would get jealous and would resort to various methods in recapturing his wife's attention. If his daughter was in the room, he would drag her away and catch up with her life, and if Rini wasn't in the room, Mika learned to share her mother.

Today, though, Dairen had decided to take his family to the beach, but before that he wanted to feed Mika, so she would have more time to play in the sand and with her bigger sister.

"Ergh…You know I hate it when she dribbles her food down, or when she burps it right into your face." Naturally, Rini wasn't that enthusiastic about feeding Mika, but her sister's gurgling and giggling was too much for her to resist. "But alright, if we're going to get to the beach on time." Picking up her sister, she led the way to the kitchen, where a bowl of mashed pears and peaches was sitting on the counter and a baby seater was propped up next to it.

Sighing, she had set Mika down and began the trifling task of getting past Mika's finicky fingers and the moving mouth. Laughing, Serena pulled a chair next to them and prepared to help her daughter.

"See, you gotta put her this way and do this while she does that." Manoeuvring, herself, Rini and Mika, Rini finally managed a spoonful into Mika's giggling mouth.

"Thanks."

Meanwhile, Darien leaned against the kitchen door, taking in the alluring scene, again thanking God that he was able to be with Serena and share a life with the daughter they created together.

He had a wife he loved dearly, and wouldn't dare lose after all the emotional trauma and trouble he'd gone to keep her and two daughters, both of which, he had the chance to spend his life with.

It was amazing to think that only a year ago, he was spending his time in his office, listening to Beryl's orders and passively watch Caroline's breasts as she bent seductively in front of him.

"I think he's blanked out…his eyes look vacant." Rini's voice broke through Darien's thoughts.

"Oh honey we're finished, now would you kindly move your delectable ass out of the way so we can get to the beach?" Serena's quick mouth had shortly returned when they were going out. It was refreshing compared to the dry, baron humour of Caroline and her friend Rita.

"Right." Smiling sheepishly, Darien led his family out the door and they were soon on their way to the beach. Mika gurgled happily in the back baby seat, full and comfortable, she laughed at Rini's funny faces.

Serena looked back at her growing family and she thought how she would never have expected this to happen a couple years ago, let alone fifteen years ago when she left her home, her friends and her love. She felt her hand being nudged on her lap, and when she turned Darien peered with one eye at her in curiosity, the other dutifully watching the road.

What are you thinking? He mouthed.

Nothing she mouthed back, smiling and shaking her head slightly. "Everything's just perfect. I love you."

Darien looked back at her peculiarly, but replied nonetheless, "I love you too."

"I love you guys too, but please, Darien, watch the road. I want to get to the beach alive, and I'm sure Mika shares that same sentiment, although she may not be aware of it." Rini had been watching their interaction and noticed Darien's increasing lack of attention to the road.

"Okay, okay, don't worry ladies, we'll be alright. Next stop, the beach."

* * *

Ahh Please review, aww so sad, it'll be you last ones! "

I hope you enjoyed it and to let you know I enjoyed writing it, even though my brain hasn't gotten the chance to sleep much the past couple weeks.

Again please review and have a great day!

XD


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